In Too Deep
by Hellion-Kat
Summary: The line had been drawn into the sand her many crossroads now a cold cul-de-sac. When had she been so blind? Ignoring that little voice screaming at the back of her head? But back then she had only just scratched the surface. Only just dabbled her foot into the deep ends edge. A time before the madness…those days when she had still been known as Darcy Lewis. Novel Length.
1. Prologue The Promise

**A/N: Behold the ultimate crack pairing that just works: Loki/Darcy! ****I'm usually a sucker for smut and romance but I plan on embedding a lot of mystery/horror elements into this story as I am also a sucker for suspense.**

***Be warned, this prologue is actually set a few chapters ahead but don't be worry I don't reveal all that much...I just thought I'd spice it up a bit and start off in the middle of my tale where things really start to get chaotic for our fantastic duo. **

******** For those of you returning...Yes I know that chapter 1 was once chapter 2 :s These two chapters don't have an order to them as I consider both to be introductions. **

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Prologue

The Promise

"Is this what sadness is all about?

Is it what comes over us when beautiful memories

shatter in hindsight

because the remembered happiness

fed not just on actual circumstances

but on a promise that was not_ kept_?"

― Bernhard Schlink, The Reader

* * *

"Oh sweet Lord," she rasped, "I am going _mad_."

There, standing in a compact room that looked like a compartment at IKEA stood earth's brightest mind, Jane Foster, a clutter of laundry between her feet. Jane flipped listlessly through articles of clothing cloistered away in her closest, keen eyes grading each and every item as if she were grading first year papers. She'd have to drive for miles till she found a boutique worthy enough for what she_ needed_ right now. And looking out her window at the storm blistering across the Norwegian S.H.I.E.L.D station, Jane glared ominously: outside was not going to let up any time soon.

Picking out threads of the stuff that bridged two distant galaxy clusters together she could do. Hell, she could spend hours on end imagining what dark matter looked like. Even doing her taxes was an easier feat than this, _this_ matter of what to wear.

_Is this what perplexes one of the greatest minds of the modern era?_ A voice from deep within her taunted.

Jane Foster emitted a sigh of defeat- she truly had no idea of what was considered "sexy" anymore.

Peering deeply into the slanted mirror on her chest of drawers, Jane scrutinized the image glaring back. She had already failed to rid herself of her dark circles. Massive ones- forged from restless nights spent crying into her pillow over what she had lost.

_Darcy.._.

That wide eyed bushy-haired girl, that hyper happy-go-lucky twenty-four year old. She wished she could tell her now what she had never thought to then: how grateful she had been to have her there all those times she had hit rock bottom.

_And how did you repay her in kind?_ The menacing voice returned.

By ignoring her, always doubting and never paying attention, thinking she had cried wolf like any other scientist would. Jesus why hadn't she actually _listened _to her friend? Why didn't she listen to her about that god-damned _house_? Why didn't she _believe_ her when she thought she was being haunted?

Suddenly the memory of what had transpired on that bleak day came crashing down on Jane Foster. The flashing waves of light that had rolled off those blue encrypted runes, the harsh hail and glares of those watchful undead; Dr. Strange's screams for her to get into a van...Darcy's _screams_. The guilt; it choked the researcher like a phantom noose. She could only imagine what it was like for Darcy now locked away in that S.H.I.E.L.D facility: a contamination cell. A twisted nightmare with no end in sight-

_Giddy,_ the voice fervently reminded her, _that's what you should feel._

_Thor_. Thor was coming and no longer out of her reach. The butterflies in her stomach multiplied in tandem at the thought of his strong arms encircling her.

As soon as she had finished dressing, Jane smelled something off, something burning like- her dinner! In a mad dash, Jane made her way down the narrow staircase to the kitchen floor's smoking oven. Coughing past the fog of smoke, Jane lifted the corningware up to the stove top, where her cute Cornish hen - now turned rubber chicken-lay. Panic surged within Jane. How could she salvage this in time?

_Too late. _The voice muttered.

"Lady Jane?"

Jane froze, her back stiffening as she turned to meet the puzzled gaze of Thor Odinson. Garbed in his rich Asgardian costume, the man she had only been dreaming of for over a year stood in front of her.

"Uhh, mmm…" was Jane's weak reply as her heart skipped a beat. Thor's warm eyes had gone directly to her home cooked meal and horrified, Jane blurted, "Oh, God… I'm _so_ _terrible_ at this."

Thor, radiant as always, broke out into booming laughter as he reached out for her frail hands to kiss.

"I think you are a lovely hostess." She smiled rather pathetically at that, "besides, I did not come for the fine Midgardian sup this night's eve, only for this realm's most beautiful and most prized lady of science; for you Jane." The immortal's eyes sparkled and Jane felt herself flush.

Ten minutes later, with the poor bird forgotten, Jane could finally rest at ease, and as if sensing this mood swing Thor ended his tale of his more youthful days, to begin asking how she had been doing in his absence.

"And how is your young apprentice doing?" He inquired looking up at her with stormy blue eyes and a grin.

"What?" Jane sputtered, practically spitting her wine into the curious immortal's face, on edge and frantic in her seat at the mention of Darcy Lewis.

"Why, the lady Darcy," he repeated a little more loudly, "how does your good friend fare?"

Jane abruptly realized just how exhausted she felt right then and there. That, up to now, she'd only been running on adrenaline.

"What has happened Jane?" Concern dripped from Thor's voice, his eyes now grim.

How do you _not_ know? Your brother, that's what _happened_, Jane thought bitterly. Your estranged phantom sibling took it upon himself to haunt my assistant and push her over the edge. Push all of us over the edge.

Jane felt the grief inside her rise up again, but Thor would have none of it, his kind eyes egging her on. It helped to reduce her frustration over his lack of knowledge as she revealed everything to him. And Thor hung onto her every word, his eyes calculating as he learned of his brother's unexpected return to Earth and his plans to use their research on the golden bridge Gjallarbrú, of Darcy's body infused with other worldly forces, of the storm that had followed in her wake. It'd been apocalyptic; the fact that she was still alive at all was a marvel, the fact that Darcy had made it a miracle; which was exactly why S.H.I.E.L.D now had her in a cell block under lock and key.

"By Valhalla, I will save her!" Thor declared, clenching his fists.

"What?" Jane jumped, taken aback by his instant bravado, "We can't just go in and grab her! We don't even know what would happen to her physiological make-up if we moved her."

"We must,_ try_ Lady Jane, those mortal men cannot aid your friend now, nor are they pure in their intentions. Only the healing powers of the All-Father can cure her."

Strength. If anything, Thor had his strength, his powerful presence and the mighty Mjölnir. If she told him the location of her friend than perhaps he could take her to see his merciful father on Asgard.

There, out of the corner of her eye she saw something; a small flash, like the static off a rug. Thor, his golden mane had, for the smallest of instances, turned a sea of jet black. Jane sucked in her breath. Thor's image was warping in front of her like the static off a television set; broad shoulders and sun-kissed skin evaporating into something dark, pale, and tall. The fierce broad-faced man replaced by the disinterested face of his brother and he was staring right at her. Jane had to look down at her napkin to stop herself from clutching at it like a life line. He'd been using Thor's promise to return to her as nothing more than a cruel trick. Gone was her golden god. Now all she could see was the man sitting before her, his twisted brother _Loki_.

How long had he been watching her from the shadows? Picking at her skull for information by sneaking his way into her thoughts? Days? Weeks? She didn't want to gamble on him discovering her new state of awareness. Jane gulped, nodding at something "Thor" said as she began to plan her escape, her head now pounding away like workers at a construction site.

Deep breaths Jane, she thought, remember what Agent Wilson was saying during the emergency protocol; the _panic buttons_. All you have to do is picture them, where they're located, but she could not remember. A horrible fog settling on her mind every time she tried.

"_Jane Foster_."

Jane leapt at the sound of her name on his lips; fearfully peeking up from her lap only to see the menacing God staring her down; looking much healthier from the last time she had, had the misfortune of seeing him. And as if recognizing the pattern of her turbulent thoughts, the God of Mischief spoke.

"Looks like the 'cats out of the bag' is it not?" He sighed, his tone, almost conversational, "if it's one thing you mortal scientists have ever been, it's observant." He then took this time to roll his eyes at her, "Oh and please don't quit your day job Jane you'd make a _terrible_ house wife."

It grated on her nerves at how easily he could treat this as nothing, like he could talk to her in an almost civilized manner after what he had done to her friend. And as if sensing her discomfort, Loki smirked in mock alarm, "by chance, have you missed me in my absence?"

_No_. Everything inside of Jane screamed; her lips pressed together as her fists squeezed hard at the table cloth. And yet it only caused the serpent to laugh in that despicable tone even more.

"I liked you better when you were _dead_!" Jane spat.

Loki grinned at her memory of him having been nothing more than disembodied consciousness.

"Don't act so undignified, my dear, you're not the one who had to pretend to be _him_ just now," his mirthful face turned sour, distracted at the thought of Thor. "I think I just lost a couple of-what is it you mortals say-?"

But Jane never let him finish. For she had made a ready running stance for the door, and before she knew it, the deity had switched from sitting elegantly at her table to roughly holding her by her shoulder blades. She never had the chance.

"No, no, _no_. You can't be here...!" She screamed, her mind willing him to turn back into Thor.

"And why_ not_?" He sneered, "Isn't this now the more plausible scenario for your mortal mind?"

Yes. Yes it was. Why would Thor come back to visit her _now_, of all times, when Asgard still remained distant to their calls? Why would he not know his own brother's whereabouts after all he had gone through with the Avengers? She knew, even if she refused to admit it, how the need to find him had left her blind to the wolf in his sheep's skin. Blind to the fact that _none_ of it had made any sense, even if she had so desperately _wanted_ it to.

"He's never coming for you," Loki's voice whispered maddeningly against her fallen form, "never again will he privilege you with his empty _promises_…not where he's gone to anyway."

The news sent shivers down Jane's spine as she shook her head. Thor...he couldn't be dead! The Trickster always had some type of ulterior motive up his sleeve. This had to be another one. But for an instance, the God had actually looked _frightened _about something, like Death itself was on his heels. And if Loki feared something, well whatever it was, Jane had no doubt the threat was _cosmic_.

The God sighed, "I grow weary of this game. It is of no matter to me if you believe this visit a delirium-based dream or _not _I _will_ have the answers I came looking for this night; one way or another."

In a simple move, the God had grasped Jane's chin to peer deeply into her face, "I _beseech_ you, Miss Foster tell me where those suited men hide your young apprentice!" But no words escaped Jane's mouth.

"Where is her prison cell? _Where is Darcy Lewis_?" He practically screamed, his eyes desperate, crazed, and glowing with annoyance.

"Pity your mentor is not here at this hour," He sniffed as if he truly did feel regret that Erik wasn't there to use against her, "Did you know that this was one of his greatest fears?" Yes, yes she had. Erik had divulged everything to her. How he had still been himself while Loki's suggestions had floated through his mind.

_Too late…_

Go away! Her mind screamed as his thoughts intruded upon her own.

Bemused by Jane's terror Loki shifted his head to tap against her own. _Why? Who will stop me? Thor?_ Loki laughed wickedly. _Or do you honestly believe those mortal men could stop me now? Could keep me from her?_ At the mention of Darcy his expression hardened, a malicious light striking his eyes as the God began to swallow all the existing light in the room.

Loki spoke through gritted teeth, "Make no mistake even if I have to _burn_ this entire fortress to the ground. I will _find_ her."

But Jane was not listening instead she was fighting the control Loki had over her mind and for a moment the fog that clouded her memory was gone. Jane's eyes went wide with dawning. She _remembered_ where an emergency button was!

I _won't _lose Darcy to you again.

_You think to stop me?_ The Deity laughed, fueling the profound sense of dread in Jane's stomach for what she was about to do next.

Reaching under the small mahogany table Jane pushed the emergency button that had been hidden there.

Sirens burst into their tell-a-tale jingle to raise the alarm and Jane sputtered backwards in surprise as the immortal before her was ever so slowly dissipating into a pool of venomous smoke. Coughing back the cold fog enveloping her apartment, Jane made a run for the exit. Not knowing where the immortal had floated off to or caring as she desperately punched in the four digit code to the intercom.

_Did you honestly think that I, Loki, omnipotent being that I am, did not know of your guardians' tactics to keep you safe? Fool woman, you were never in control. _The pool of icy miasma that'd been his body seconds ago was exploding in silvery waves across her apartment's floor and now slowly making its way up towards her, wrapping around her like the soft coils of a snake.

Jane felt like kicking herself...she had only done what he had known she would do from the start- call for help. The rest of the time spent was merely to toy with her and get information. Was it truly so surprising that he had tricked her yet again? The researcher's body ached as she felt him drifting deeper within her. Her heart rate accelerating like crazy, Jane could not move from her position against the wall.

"Would you believe me, Jane Foster, if I told you I mean your apprentice no harm?" He asked her earnestly, his voice now barely an audible whisper.

How could this, _this _unknown entity that took such pleasure in making her life and the lives of her friends a living hell be asking her that _now_? It threw her, anger and frustration she could expect from him- but this hint of sorrow? Was it even possible for the psychopath to _feel_ remorse for his sins? Was it even plausible, she wondered, that, however slight in form, he cared about what happened to Darcy? It confused her; was he testing her with another one of his tricks? Or was he truly asking her to _believe _him? But to believe…that would imply that she actually thought the God redeemable.

She did not.

"I would _never _believe one such as yourself, _monster_." She answered.

"Monster…?" He softly repeated, his voice full of resentment, "You are quite right it is only in my _nature_, I suppose; that, that is what I am and_ always_ will be. Is it not Jane?" He asked, his voice uneasy.

What was he rambling on about? Jane wondered through her hysteria. What did he have to gain? Especially asking her, her opinion of him now; did he want her to pass judgment on him? And why, back then out of all those he could have used, did he _choose_, Darcy? What had _transpired _between the two of them?

"What _are _you to her?" Jane suddenly asked the curious immortal as he continued to bind himself tightly around her form; the question causing him to halt in his ministrations.

"Her salvation," was his solemn reply.

At that point in time, Jane didn't know what scared her more. The fact that, she had played right into his hand or the fact that Loki, a God of discord, honestly _believed_ what he had told her.

_You should have given me her whereabouts Jane._

"Ms. Foster this is Agent Wilson," the intercom finally spoke; her agents now hovering over her front door ready for action, "Are you there?"

_Now I will wear you like one of your frilly frocks._

"Yes. I'm here." A voice answered in reply, a voice that sounded like hers but was_ not her own_.

"Everything all right Jane?" Wilson's voiced gravelly asked through the intercom's static.

No. Everything was _not_ alright.

"Yes. I'm fine sir. Just a little bit of smoke from the oven, got a little worried that's all-"

Everything was _black_.

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**A/N:**

**Oh Jane you poor thing! you've just been LOKI'D! ****Looks like Loki's off to save Darcy the only way he knows how...through trickery! Stringing Jane along for the ride too; Loki you dastardly diva you so full of Darcy feels. Sniff. Sniff.**

******Hope this made for a good introduction to the story. Hopefully I didn't make it too long or confusing for any of you seeing as this is a few chappies ahead.**

**Comments feed my insanity. Please tell me what you thought.**


	2. The Haunted I

**A/N:**

**LOL I just realized for an entire day my fic had a spelling typo in the title-no doubt causing all the Literature majors here to faint!**

**And well, well, well it looks like some ppl recognize this story from my deviantart account-looks like its a small world after all..**

**You may have noticed Darcy was missing in the last chapter, well that's going to change, this chapter is all Darcy centric.**

**Enjoy! And please tell me what you think!**

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The Haunted

Chapter 1

One need not be a chamber to be haunted;

One need not be a house;

The brain has corridors surpassing

Material place.

~Emily Dickinson, "Time and Eternity"

* * *

If you want to truly comprehend the mind of one Darcy Anne Lewis you have to understand the impulse that drives one to click on a youtube video about a cup that everyone tells them they really _don't_ want to see, or that sudden urge to slow down at an accident and stare at the wreckage. She knows that it's a bad decision and yet she does it anyway. A _Geek_ tragedy in the truest sense of the word: born of too much coffee, too many bad choices, and way too much Tumblr.

That was the crux of the matter; how her life ended up a live wire of curiosities and impulses, and worst of all- nagging urges to_ fight_. The better informed urge, keyword being _flee_, set to hibernate. Like when the blond in the horror movie goes off to investigate rather than turn and _flee_ like a motherfucker.

Panic, horror, fear of the unknown, it's a baser impulse, but an important one that's lost on Darcy Lewis. And in reflection of her life, it'd been her biggest character flaw to date. Yet her existence hadn't always started out like that.

Raised by two liberal, overbearing parents, no one had ever bullied her for being named after a Jane Austin character. Her marks, had she not always procrastinated, were passable her introduction to alcohol and detention slips an unimpressive mockery of authority. There were no mutant powers that had ever kicked in, no angsty back story, no radioactive spider bites. She had been leading an average life. And in all her attempts to cover up this mediocrity during her adolescence with a colorful image, and colorful words, and colorful things; dig deep enough and you'll find that, that dull word "average" haunted Darcy Lewis. It had her feel as if her life were an open book.

There goes Ms Lewis with all her ambitions in life but no drive to get her there. Meek, obedient Darcy; pushed by her parents into attending that local university Culver so conveniently close to home rather than pursue her dream of going to Art school. Choosing that safer second choice major, Political Science; unable to fit in with those "Pre-law" snobs and too lazy to switch out. No dramatic climax for her, just voted most likely to marry someone mediocre, apply for a tedious office job, and pop out a couple of rugrats. And then something _snapped_.

It wasn't like the earth shattering _snap_ of Thor's 'Mew Mew.' Or that _snap_ that switches mild mannered Bruce Banner into a raving Hulk. It'd been a gradual discovery while scouring her school's internship pages at 3 am under 'no credentials.' An accidental click of her mouse had revealed the Bargholm Astrophysicist's Grant and six credits. Why not apply? Political Science was a type of science, _right_? What's the worst that could happen... they don't call her back? But they had! On her laptop had been a way out of her living purgatory and the last farewell to normal life as she'd known it.

Darcy Lewis had clicked accept.

When she had arrived at her internship her employer, Dr. Foster, had been the quintessential absent-minded professor type; perpetually gawking at Darcy's sass, her inexperience, and her complete obliviousness to science. Then there had been Jane's surrogate father figure Dr. Erik Selvig. Darcy had been pretty sure he couldn't understand a_ word_ she said often smiling and looking hopelessly to Jane to help translate. For a while they had both tolerated her, but like the mold on a fourth grader's forgotten lunch box, Darcy Lewis had grown on them. She'd become their sample compiler, paper-filer, and coffee maker and the disgruntled university student had _liked_ it that way.

If only she had known what lay ahead of her then for together they had experienced the _paranormal_. Alien Norse Gods, secret agents, Iron Giants…the works!

But now with their hero missing in action and the happy ending between Jane and Thor nothing but a whispered promise something akin to normality had returned to Darcy Lewis's life and the intern felt _cheated_ by it. It had been heart breaking. Every time Darcy had caught Jane searching the skies for Thor. And in Darcy's mind Thor should never have openly promised to return to Jane. For the problem with spoken promises is that once made, their_ bound_ to be broken.

Jane hadn't been the only one going through Thor withdrawal either. Meeting Thor was clearly not something one forgets which had been exactly why S.H.I.E.L.D. had remained in Puente Antiguo to cover up all possible evidence. The small town now transformed into MIB central, with more agents than locals and lots of yellow tape. Everywhere she went a suit and tie kept tabs on her. Like Darcy Lewis had actually needed a field agent assigned to her to escort her to the laundry mat!

Apparently said agent had a name, Agent Matthews; her shiny new S.H.I.E.L.D. sitter. Hair in a buzz-cut and eyes hidden under dark aviators; he always had a foppish grin ready for her snide remarks. She might have thought the man attractive if it hadn't been for the fact that he was like her constant shadow.

Dr. Selvig had told them they were under some kind of "official lock-down." No one got in or out without S.H.I.E.L.D.'s say so in an attempt to make the "Iron Giant" incident look like a waste spill. After that tidbit of info, Darcy saw less of her elderly friend at the lab. His shadow, Agent Coulson, had been keeping Erik on a tight leash. Every time she had seen Coulson he had been barking out orders to any S.H.I.E.L.D. operative within earshot about some "Avengers Initiative." It seemed that "all would be revealed" after he had some kind of "talk with the Doc" at Isabel's coffee house.

Then and there, Darcy had decided it was high time to start doing a little spying of her own. Jane, transfixed with jotting down information gleaned from Thor's World Tree, had been largely unapproachable on the subject. But even the postdoctoral researcher had her limits. She too was weary of those who had snatched away her life's work.

So, while Darcy was taking their orders at Isabel's the morning of the meeting she slipped the elderly woman a note. And soon after they had finished eating a brawl between an employee and a customer had "suddenly" erupted outside causing Matthews sitting two booths down to run out and help. Jane and Darcy then hid in the "out of order" ladies room until the agent cavalry arrived with Selvig in tow.

The conversation had started off simple enough until Coulson mentioned S.H.I.E.L.D. tinkering around with some kind of a cube thing. Titillated by this news, Erik desperately wanted to know all about it but Coulson wouldn't let up on what he knew. Finally Erik cracked. He would join in on their Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S. but on the condition that Jane and Darcy were kept safe under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s protection.

Darcy had stopped listening in at this point, she had been seeing red; infuriated that S.H.I.E.L.D. would use them like that to get to Erik. Darcy's anger subsided, however, when her attention had been drawn to Jane. The distressed scientist had been clutching onto Darcy's hand in a vice grip from the shock.

Everything had happened too _damn_ quickly. With the conversation now over the men had stood, shook hands, and left. In a bid for their protection Erik would be taken to God knows where. Their fate now in the hands of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Jane, locked in her bunker, had internalized her distress. Darcy, however, kept nothing bottled in, confronting the "angry ditched" Matthews with everything she had. Her shadow didn't hold back on her either, like an irked parent he cooly explained to her, her situation. She would be given an ultimatum; she could either stay as Jane's assistant working for S.H.I.E.L.D. extending her "internship" or she could return home where the Big Brother monitoring would subside. But what did she really have to go home too? Disappointed parents and an unfinished degree? And what of Jane Foster? First Thor and now Erik had left her; could she really do the same?

It had been like a scene straight out of the Matrix. Darcy Lewis, the girl who knew too much surrounded by agents. Opting to take the red pill instead of the blue; soon to discover just how deep this rabbit-hole went. But unlike Alice there'd be no returning from her Wonderland. As soon as she had agreed as soon as her paperwork had been stamped off and signed off, and sent off to headquarters; they had been kicked out of the quaint New Mexican town like Erik, off to God knows where.

In the grand scheme of things anonymity had worked out in their favor. Their world had become a battlefield. Though Thor had ultimately defeated The Destroyer, the destruction had merely been a taste of what was in store for them when another Big Bad had come a knock'n. For there on their lab cafeteria's TV screen stood an unusually thin man with cruel expression and long raven hair; his sunken features almost feminine. Smoky lashes hid bright eyes; cold and unyielding like the many nights Darcy had spent in the New Mexican desert. Decorated in armor similar to Thor's he looked exquisite and complicated, and deadly; so much so that Darcy had been taken aback. It was criminal that even antagonists from Asgard were this attractive. Chills coursed down her spine while listening to his calm and calculated speeches, his voice every bit the voice of a silvery-tongued prince, his jeering message one of world domination.

It was then that they had been moved to a new location; one with _a lot_ more security. Needless to say, this Norse Trickster fellow had not only fucked with the wrong mortals but with his big immortal brother as well. Thor's second trip to earth had been nationally televised and it had left Darcy scratching her head in wonder why, in all of his time spent on earth, Thor hadn't taken a time-out to maybe, _like promised_, check in on Jane!

Still this news did not put a damper on her friend instead it re-vitalized her determination to create her stairway to the heavens. In that short amount of time, surrounded by battle-weary agents who could easily have ended them, they had fought their own internal battle, one of science. And although Darcy Lewis had been no Doogie Howser of the rare anomalous particle phenomenon she had somehow managed to keep the firelight of Jane's sanity up and running.

Their stellar work ethic, however, never led them to a much deserved vacation. Instead it lead them straight smack into the same stellar situation they had been in months ago. This time stuck in middle of nowhere Wiltshire, England sent to investigate odd atmospheric activity and Celtic crop circles.

Like Scooby doo... same gimmick different setting.

Darcy hadn't gotten the entire gist from her physicist just yet (Jane had still been on a plane after her visit with a recovering Erik in Norway) but her friend had listed the rubix cube Erik had been studying as a leading factor. Her friend's scientist senses tingling from the amazing storms and light shows they'd been having lately; archaeological finds having randomly popped up undetected for centuries. The ones they had been sent to investigate dated back to the last Ice Age; dubbed "Bluehenge" for the color of the icicle-like runes that made a path to, well, Stonehenge.

Soon they would be meeting their newly assigned host Sir Carl Strange; the man in charge of the "Bluehenge" expedition. A PhD holder in atom interferometry, his research analysis made the site out to be computer-like in its preciseness; a remarkable feat accredited to Vikings. Mystery surrounded it; the biggest question being what had caused it to suddenly reappear. Merlin? Atlantis? Giants? Giant Mole Men? Well, who knew for sure.

All Darcy Lewis had known at the time was that Matthews driving on the left side of the road was making her nauseous. They'd been on their way to meet up with Jane for a debriefing at their new S.H.I.E.L.D. placement. It was supposed to be just like Downton Abbey, well-managed and conveniently close to the site, a home of one of Strange's ancestors dating back to the Elizabethan era.

Blinking back the glare of the afternoon sun Darcy had been left speechless by it. There before them lay a long driveway lined with scattered pine and oaks leading up to, what could only be described as, a vast and intimidating manor house. Forget the "well managed" part - it'd been more like "rather neglected." Its peeling paint was covered in a film of dew as long wisps of ivy crawled up the tarnished window panes to a lopsided chimney. In the distance stood an empty courtyard filled with sickly green weeds once a garden, its pond covered in slime.

Well at least it was more scenic and habitable looking than Jane's motor home in New Mexico.

"Jinkies." She muttered as she re-adjusted her glasses eliciting a chuckle from her agent as they begun the long hull of equipment and luggage towards the opened iron gate. In that moment Darcy had to force herself to look away from the massive estate overwhelmed and overheated from the long humid day.

And then she'd felt _it_.

Walking at a steady pace she stopped dead in her tracks as a chill ran down her spine, something she had never experienced before, a whole _new_ sensation. But where was it coming from? She just couldn't shake the feeling that she was being _watched_. Darcy blinked looking across the garden, towards the car, past the gate, and then she finally looked up.

There, in the clutter of billowing trees, a swarm of black birds had been forming; hoards of them. Their eyes glimmering and ever watchful some flying in circles, hanging off branches, sitting in the hollows of the trees. All watching as she watched them and as if _recognizing_ her stares their squawks went from a low moaning to a piercing pitch.

Man it was_ freaking_ her out...

Come off of it, Darcy, it's just a flock of birds. So she brushed it off as nothing.

A pity dread was one of those things lost on Darcy Lewis because just like all the blonds in those horror movies she'd watched growing up-

She should have _left_ when she had the chance.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Ah yes the plot in my cauldron doth thicken. double, double toil and trouble.**

**So... Shield not as nice as you'd think they'd be, huh? Hope this helps to fill in the cavity gaps of where Thor and the Avengers fit into the story. I hope to add more Marvel characters into the mix like the x-men later and Dr. Strange plays a pretty important part as well when it comes to magic and science. And the crows...well they kinda speak for themselves being the token symbol of trickster gods everywhere that they are!**


	3. The Haunted II

**A/N:** **Ahh yeah! I'm back with more fun-tacular story! Uuggs and it took like_ forever_ to write, my fingers are like snails…snails! Well I hope this pleases and sparkles!**

**This here story is just brimm'n w/melodrama!**

**A big thanks to those who reviewed, your feedback and criticism is much appreciated.**

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The Haunted

Chapter 2

"If the living are haunted by the dead, then the dead are haunted by their own mistakes."

― Chuck Palahniuk, Damned

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The grass blew gently in the summer breeze. The wind picking up to blow across an arch of shaded trees their leaves scattering across the paved pathways of a park to drop onto the heads of young lovers walking hand in hand and small children at play. Every single one of them so full of life... and so completely oblivious to his presence.

_Dead._

That was what he felt like inside. The numb ache of it easing the hot sting of failure that had grown a shelf life deep inside him. For he had learned to _embrace_ his pain, that knowledge the Chitauri had bestowed upon him helped him even now...now that he was the laughing stock of Midgard.

"Aww, what's the matter, _twinkle toes_?"Spat the condescending tone of the Iron man,"didn't know your tricks were for kids? Well play times over, young man. Now it's off to Daddy with you to sit in that corner and think about what you've done."

Where few had ever had the gall to laugh at him the Avengers now snickered at Stark's outlandish commentary. They were standing around him dressed in their civilian clothing like they had been taking an afternoon stroll.

"Tony, please. Enough." The red-headed harpy ordered sharply eyeing their prisoner.

"What? What? What's he gunna do? _Pout_?" Stark retorted.

"_Enough_." Thor bellowed from behind Loki causing them all to jump. Avoiding eye contact with the other God, Thor quickly paced in front of him towards the mortal who was unsteadily handling the Tesseract.

"Thank you Erik." The Thunder God murmured, his look one of sadness at the Doctor's unsteady tremors from his time spent with Loki.

_Clumsy oaf,_ Loki thought with constrained venom watching Dr. Selvig's fumbling ministrations to secure the lid.

He knew the cosmic cube's inner workings like the mortals _never_ would; pure energy, pure _power_, pure inter-dimensional space. It beckoned to him even still. Like him, it wished to destroy its new captors, like him, it yearned to be set _free_.

Alas, its powers were now trapped within the bulky hands of a "brother" who could not look him in the eye and he knew _exactly_ why that was. Odin's heir thought to lull him into that tender lie that he could possibly be reconciled. But there was no going back. And he _loathed_ the Asgardian for thinking that as he prepared himself for the coming devastation; for what would happen next, for if he failed to rule Midgard then-

Thor held out the containment jar and Loki, full of trepidation, took hold of the other side of the jarred lid.

"To Asgard." Thor's mighty yell rang as the humans that had gathered round them disappeared into moving languid waves of blue light. Their voices drowned out by the inevitable static void the brothers would travel through. But the halls of Heimdall's observatory they did not grace. A pulsating light, a hole had popped out from the ether, and then more of its kind appeared to intercept the beams they traveled upon, restricting their movements.

They had come for_ him,_ for what he had promised them, the Tesseract. And there would be nothing and no-one to stop them, not even the mighty Odin, exhausted from using Dark Energy, could smite them now. And as if reading his thoughts the Cosmic Cube did glow and flicker with its own screams of recognition; for the Tesseract had been made very much aware of its own existence for quite some time now and ever watchful of all those who bound themselves to it.

A newly formed sentient being, its first thoughts were of fear, a fear for its life, the natural fear of death. And like a shaking child it cried out to Loki. It was pained by the_ knowing_, the agony that awaited it at the hands of the Chitauri. Unstable in its fright, it gnawed away at the humans pathetic attempts to suppress it. The new found instability caused it to sway the frozen brothers arms to-and-fro. And with parts of their prison cell absolved by the blistering heat of the Tesseract the two struggled in their limited movements to retrieve it. But the Cube would not allow itself to be controlled any longer. And both Gods froze in their horror as she escaped them to become nothing more than a shimmering dot on the horizon.

They were _not_ alone.

The space around the embryonic mold they had been trapped within was no longer sparse of matter but full of a Chitauri horde. The fleet of their starships hovering over them with menace as their alien hardware transmitted a stronger pulse towards their unseen cage; causing the brothers cells and tissues to twitch to their will, causing them to cry out in their agony.

"Loki! What have you _done_?" Thor moaned, his strangled cries muffled.

"_What_ indeed…," came the victorious cry of The Other.

"Greetings Odinson I bid you welcome to our most humble abode." The Chitauri leader bowed in a mocking display for Thor that left the rest of its followers chuckling on the desolated asteroid field.

"Oh, but you did not think us defeated did you Asgardian scum?" The hooded figure continued, jovial in its goading, "We have not _one_ location, we are mobile throughout this universe- and we are _many_."

"Brother whatever barbs I have dealt you in life do not turn away from us to them! Do not do_ this_-ah!" Thor groaned in the midst of his speech unable to finish.

"Ahh, ahh, brother,_ brother_!" The Other mimicked turning its hooded head to examine Loki's pained expression, "After all you've done he _still_ calls you that? Isn't that sweet? How _pathetic_." It snarled as its shadowy figure now made its way out of the crowd to point at Thor.

"Odinson, are you so blind not to see your failure in placing your trust in the silvery-tongued one? He longs to rule in your stead and will accomplish any feat to do so. Why, while you were distracted on Earth's battlefields did you ever care to think of how Asgard fared without you? That, maybe someone who has stabbed you in the back once before, could give council to enemies on ways past gated soil?"

Thor, in his aggrieved state, turned his head to Loki in disbelief.

"_Tragic_ isn't it? How that ailing All-Father of yours is now as weak as a human after using up all his energies. How do you think your_ sire_ will feel when he awakens from his Odinsleep to find himself face to face with one of his greatest enemies, His castle in rubble; his treasure troves ransacked, and his precious son_ dead_?"

"This is trickery...surely they lie? Loki-?" But the ashen look on his step-brother's face spoke volumes, "-_traitor_!" Thor screamed in anguish and disbelief, glaring at the one he called brother, "If what they speak is truth-have no doubt-I will bind you for your crimes against the All-Father-arghh- for all_ eternity_!

Loki's shoulders shook from _that_ ominous outburst, _but it had to be done,_ he reminded himself.

Suddenly the friction that had taken root within Loki's cells was slowly relaxing as he fell unceremoniously to the ground where he lay surrounded and watched by many; the awful stench of them filling up his nostrils. Loki gathered his bearings to stand amongst the Chitauri horde in his chains; feeling diminutive and outnumbered, he stared them down only to find Thor missing. Not even a trace of the Thunder God remained. His last remaining connection to Asgard... gone.

"Lonely already little prince?" The gravelly voice of the Other teased.

Opening up his mind from its mental barricades Loki responded sarcastically to the creature in kind, _I would love to retort, but alas, my lips are sealed._

_Where did they take him?_ He inquired of the Other as the crowds of Chitauri began to dissipate as quickly as they had arrived, leaving him and their leader alone.

"Ah, I'm glad you asked, Oath-Breaker, he is off to the dark dimensions where the demons will make much sport of him there in their arena. You, of course, are welcome to watch the spectacle." The Other was met with silence to which it laughed, "But is this not what you _wanted_ rightful _king_ of Asgard?"

It was a hollow victory.

"Do not fret for your, "brother," Lie-smith you'll soon be wishing to follow where he goes."

Loki froze at that.

"Ah, good, you are afraid, as you should be for your constant failings-"

_And what of my successes? _Loki's mind retorted quickly as it could muster, _I have opened many doors for you as promised, as only an ever faithful ally could-_

"And yet you let slip from us _the key_ to the many doors with which you speak." The Other responded bitterly back.

_And well you know your need of me now more than ever to retrieve the Cube. My bond with the Tesseract is still strong and the only hope you have of ever getting it back._

At this point even he knew he was grasping at straws but The Other ignored him as it continued, "We have no use for your childish games of betrayal anymore," it stated, sighing almost playfully, "and here _he_ thought you had so much _more_ potential."

Loki's throat went dry at the mention of Thanos.

"Do not think yourself so quick-witted that when you cast your thoughts across dimensions by way of Earth that it did not go unnoticed by our empire. Do not you think the Titan knows when he is being played? He, a being who survived the destruction of the previous universe, he who revealed to you the many lives you have lived, your cyclic deaths, your inner most_ purpose,_ the Ragnarok. And yet here you are trying to fight your fate; still holding fast to an old king who spurned you."

_I have no allegiances to them, _the God swore bitterly.

"We have spies, Mischief Maker. We know the Infinity Gems are no longer in Odin's possession. We know the information you gave us does not lead to Odin's throne room. Did you truly think you could hide all this from our endless sight? You are nothing more than a vain, greedy,_ foolish_ little boy, still trying to please father…still trying to play _hero_."

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. The plan wasn't supposed to fail so_ wretchedly _like this.

"No need to worry anymore _sweet princ_e," The Other whispered tenderly as it leaned in towards the shell-shocked Trickster, "we will get that information from you yet. And we will have _our_ Tesseract. You knew this penalty would come if you failed _him_. Crossing the Titan is to court his wrath, his mistress. The Lady Death and-," the Other gave pause to wave its robed arms at the miserable atmosphere enveloping around them, "she is _here_ now, manifested onto our physical plane; the cosmic entity herself, come here to embrace _you_, to feast on your flesh and bones for your incompetence."

"And if anyone can get_ you_ to talk...she certainly can."

The Other then left him, its cape rippling with mirth from its jest to become the last harrowing image the Trickster saw as it disappeared. Loki shivered. Now he truly was alone, surrounded by dark desolate wasteland with nothing but time and his thoughts to torment him.

The fact that he had been so close, that he could have_ done_ it, what was_ necessary_ for Asgard, for Odin … for himself. And he only ever had but himself to fall back on; to plan alongside his saviors the Chiaturi, to plot against his father's enemy The Titan, to dream of conquest and rule, of Earth and Asgard; of the Tesseract. Now only to be haunted, lost in the thoughts of what could have been; no longer burdened by glorious purpose Loki Laufeyson waited for the entity called Death. And the waiting was _excruciating_.

_How typical for a woman to make me wait, _he groaned watching the wretched skies darken. Dim clouds had festered on the horizon, like whirlwinds, foreboding in the way they loomed. Squinting his eyes he made to peer closer at its bizzarity only to realize there was a figure hidden there a hooded woman making her way towards him. Death drew near, come to collect him, his soul.

Now the apparition stood before him as he prepared himself to die by her hands. Spidery pale finger tips hovered over his gag and with whispered words she did pull it off; her pale hands now sticky with red. He screamed. The first noise to come out of him in a long time; Loki rocked in his pain. The contraption, now torn from his mouth, caused his blood to run freely from the sinews of his carved withering lips, choking him as it poured over his long neck to pool into small puddles on the ground.

The tentative entity remained by his side in her silent curiosity as she watched, waiting for him to speak, and finally he did.

"_Death_?" He hesitantly asked, his jaw's movements foreign to him, filling his mouth up with more blood, making him gag.

"Nay, I am not her." The woman stoically answered, "Lady Death is a bad _joke_."

_Then who…?_ He wondered.

"I am Hela guardian of Helheim, protector of lost souls and you, Trickster, are in need of me."

Undoing the strings that held her tethered hood of midnight in place long ripples of black hair spilled forth, revealing the pale, handsome face of a masked woman.

"What madness _is_ this?" The captive God sputtered.

"The madness that only you could ever deliver," was her curt reply, "you must by now realize the implications of unleashing the Cube out into our nine worlds. Many wounds have been opened; rifts in time and space that upset the nature of my Helheim and other realms like mine."

The shaken God stared at the Death Goddess blankly- wanting to ask the woman what she _meant_ but with a cold wave of her hand she silenced him.

"The twilight you wish to stop but always inevitably create has drawn out unwanted characters. And to my great annoyance the Eternal Death has become big-headed and has resurrected her unsavory lover Thanos; has abused our pact by requesting him to alter the very cycles of life itself. There is an _order_… a natural order to things that if disrupted…" Spooked by what she spoke of Hela looked in all directions as if someone could hear.

"What do _I_ care…" Loki muttered, more to himself than to her, now glaring up at her ghostly apparition, "You cannot change my fate, _witch."_

"You're right only _you_ can..." Hela muttered as she lifted her robed arms to reach into the lifeless sky; waving her hands in circles as if to grasp onto something from the nothing. There in the corner of her clutches a bulk of space did warp; transcending into a scorching white light, a hole.

"There is only so much my magic can do to make attenuate the veil between dimensions, to remain invisible to her and to him. I have not much time here in this place, but I must say, out of all your incarnations from the different Ragnaroks I have witnessed... you seem the most _likable_." She grinned, the last part of her statement dripping with just as much mystery as sarcasm.

Loki, in his frustration, had no time to think on her backhanded compliment for the masked Goddess had, without warning, pointed a long skeletal finger and touched him. He felt... _numb._ She had forced him out of his physical body and into that of his metaphysical form, his astral projection and yet it wasn't at all similar.

"You _daft_ woman, what have you done to me?" He shouted only to realize his shackles had disappeared along with his body. She had turned him into some kind of a manifestation of his living soul! So the rumors on Asgard were true...the Guardian of the Afterlife could claim the soul of an Asgardian in a single touch, a "touch of death."

"Shhhh, don't worry your soul will be safe from me. You wrote yourself out of my book of dead _long_ ago... and through trickery I might add. I am simply keeping you out of their reach," She muttered as she persisted on with her whispered spells and illusions.

"Why …" He asked desperate for answers, "Why would _you_ aid_ me_?"

The young goddess ignored him as her eyes glowed in concentration, fixated on the vast hole turned shimmering vortex, the circling whirlpool now a glowing row of glyphs.

"What trickery-?" He gasped through chapped bloodless lips as she made to seize his bewildered new form.

"Think of it as self-preservation _father._" Was her riddling answer, and yet her reasoning did not register within him. For in his mind he was_ not _her father and he exclaimed just as much_._

"I have seen my life and the lives of all of my predecessors revealed to me by the Titan and you play no part in them witch!" He cruelly spat.

"I know…it matters not if the Mad Titan showed you my birth," Hela sighed, "you should know by now that Thanos is just as deceptive as you are. Do you truly think he would reveal any happiness your past lives once had to offer? Do you _truly_ believe he would reveal anything other than his own motives?"

So he could have been a_ father_ to her in that previous life of his? During one of the many Ragnaroks? Perhaps...Legends bards had often sung spoke of the realm of souls being eternal in its makeup; not exactly known for keeping in line with the movement of time or mortality like in the other realms. What she said was plausible but trust her he did not nor _would_.

"I _have_ seen the end." Loki vehemently spat ignoring her claim.

Hela tensed in anger, "_No_ you have only seen a "end" the paths that your other incarnations have followed but not_ the_ end."

"What difference does it make? I am still the inevitable end of all on Asgard! How can I possibly change that woman?" The God cried. "_TELL ME!"_

"_Survive_." Was her cold reply.

Loki had no time to ponder her bitter message for she had shoved him kicking and screaming into that radiant punctured fissure. The previous world's fragments sliding, splintering apart to be put back together again, completely changed. Before him lay a world, a pool of collected souls; a stream of what was once reality and he was drowning in it... yet, strangely enough it didn't _feel _like anything_._

Sudden dawning, like the shock of one of Thor's thunderbolts struck him as he realized just _where_ he was. For it appeared as though the Goddess had dropped him into Gjöll, the river ever flowing down the World Tree and into her Helheim and the golden bridge Gjallarbrú. A legendary bridge guarded by a nasty Giantess with the same qualities as the Bifro-

Loki's eyes lit up. He had a way back to Asgard.

Submerged within unconscious souls waiting to be reincarnated the Trickster God swam against their current, looking for a way out, his exit. And even though he had no clue where to begin his search he knew he was making some progress when he heard Hela's voice whistle past him.

"You _cannot_ leave here," the Goddess boomed causing bubbles to ripple round him and the other spirits to scatter out of his way.

_Watch me! _He thought while swimming past the strangely garbed Midgardian souls of pasts and present.

His so called daughter had been right... only he could alter his fate and he definitely wasn't about to be nothing more than an _echo_ of memories past.

Treading through souls for what seemed like an eternity Loki raised his head and swam up high enough to make out an end to the river's watery world, a surface. There above him was a glyph similar to the one the Goddess had used herself, a portal; its image, golden and flickering, its image much like a golden bridge.

The Goddess's harsh voice resounded again against his ears, this time with new found apprehension as she tried to reason with him, "Where you go I may not follow...I will not be able to _protect_ you."

_So be it,_ was his mind's curt reply as he began to swim faster, fighting against the current of hands, of shades brought to life by Hela's anger, all trying to push him back down. Bubbles swarmed over his head to make waves above him as he pushed his way out, up to the top. He had now reached the surface world. But something wasn't _right. _He'd been flipped upside down and he was falling head first into what could only be the material atmosphere of Midgard.

Loki cursed. It'd been an illusion; a watery mirage, there'd been no bridge, only foreign runes that lay far below him, off into the distance.

Not knowing how to interpret his new out-of-body experience or willing to take any chances with it, Loki, the shape-shifter that he was, took the shape of the only creature he could think of..

A raven.

And with his new wing span expanded, he flew clumsily, gracelessly down to Earth.

Down towards the beckoning runes he'd seen in the shape of the golden bridge back to Asgard.

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**A/N:** **Ohhhh, my, my what a twist! Aren't family reunions awesome? Hela certainly did her Daddy a solid...Comic-verse Thanos's love affair with the Eternal Lady Death always spells disaster in the Marvel universe especially for those characters directly involved.**

**Lol when Loki leaves the river of souls I kept picturing Charlie leaving heaven from All Dogs Go To Heaven :s ~~_you can never come back Charlie, never come back_~~**

**p.s checkout Marvel's new animated comic Thor and Loki: Blood Brothers b/c not only is it epic it has a lot of the same elements I'm trying to illustrate in my own fic with Ragnarok, Hela, and Loki's many incarnations. squee I loved it!**


	4. The Haunted III

**A/N~**

**Dodges rotten tomatoes thrown at her.**

**Yes, yes I know I took too long on this and yet again wrote a uber-ly long chapter –you wouldn't believe how many times I rewrote this monster and I'd love to give you all my real world excuses but I'm sure they'd just bore you to tears. I'm a very visual person and these types of things play out more like a movie in my mind…easy to watch very hard to write.**

**I have taken an awful lot of liberties w/the character of Dr. Strange some of you might even catch the references I make to his comic book self while others will prob not even notice. Thor, The Avengers, Dr. Strange and his Sanctum Santorum all belong to Marvel, I take no credit, unless its six college credits of course. ;)**

*****You may have noticed the change in rating… this is highly due to the many close encounters of the Loki kind Darcy will be having...ehehe.**

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The Haunted

Chapter 3

"There is no terror in the bang, only in the_ anticipation_ of it."

~Alfred Hitchcock

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"I'm getting too _old_ for this shit." Muttered Matthews, now getting quite the workout hauling Jane's equipment as well as their belongings. Well mostly her belongings.

Hidden away in a wooded valley carved out by the river Avon, they had finally reached the small village by the same name and their new headquarters, Sanctum Manor.

"Stuff it, Matthews, we don't have _that _far to go," Darcy scoffed at her companion as she hustled on only to think over what he had said, "Just how old _are_ you, anyways?" She asked.

"Uh, uh, uh Miss. Lewis that's _top_ secret." Matthews huffed, taking off his aviators to honor the intern with a brown-eyed wink. It was enough to make her cheeks burn red. Lately she'd been collecting information on her agent seeing as how he always had to know _her_ business. Apparently his real name was Jacob and he _hated_ her using it. So Darcy had filed that juicy tidbit under her "to use against him later" cabinet. They were getting closer to their finish line, which thankfully, wasn't that far off as a swarm of agents flittered past them with equipment.

Huh, a house full of agents, Darcy thought with some disdain, now all they needed was a camera crew, some horny twenty somethings and they could call it "Big Brother."

Although she hated the constant surveillance Darcy grudgingly knew why they had to tag along as well. With all the wild light shows, the onslaught of prehistoric oddities, _and_ the upcoming Summer Olympics their operation was in constant jeopardy. And right now anonymity meant _everything_. They needed all the help they could get to steer clear of the public eye and not end up like the scandal rocking Europe right now over Mutants found participating in the Olympics. The last thing they needed was to have to explain to the British tabloids all the overt supernatural elements in their universe.

Dropping what he was carrying to the ground, Jacob groaned, "did you honestly have to pack so _frick'n_ much, _Darcers_?"

"Yeah, well maybe if you knew how to _drive_ and hadn't gotten us _lost _we would've been unpacked by now _Jacob_," Darcy muttered back in her usual sass,"that certainly wasn't the British peace sign they were giving us back there!"

The conversation had suddenly turned argumentative, and choosing to ignore Matthews man-trum, Darcy turned her attention instead towards Sanctum Manor to find herself privy to a spectacle between two men who weren't agents. And it looked to be quite the heated conversation. Whatever it was they were arguing about intense as their voices rose and fell in unison. Darcy had to squint her eyes through the glare of her glasses to get a better look at them. There amongst the sea of black suited activity stood a tall waspish gentleman bickering with some type of a construction worker. The worker was so upset, he up and left the fellow mid-conversation to rush past them.

What the heck had that been all about? Darcy wondered. The worker looked _spooked_, like he was shaken up about something.

Prestigious in terms of appearance, the more dapper looking Englishman didn't seem to acknowledge their presence; glaring past them to where the worker had wandered off. With his mustache-goatee combination and graying hairs wrapped around his temple he looked as though he had just climbed out of the dated pages of a harlequin romance novel. And looking rather aghast from the other man's outburst it wasn't until they had finally reached the front door with their luggage that he greeted them.

"Oh, uh Dr. Foster I take it?" He asked, clearly still trying to gather his bearings as he made to shake her hand while holding a rather large folder in the other.

"Actuall-" Darcy began only to be interrupted.

"Allow me the pleasure of introducing myself, my name is Dr. Carl Strange and on behalf of our team at Sheffield University I'd like to welcome you to my family's estate," Strange declared with an evident lackluster of focus, "please, forgive me my lack of manners we weren't expecting you so _soon_ as you can see we are still in the process of renovating," He gestured towards the peeling paint on the towering walls above them.

"The man you saw with me was one of our _very _ill-informed contractors." He derisively muttered, evidently still bitter, "Well than, enough of that did you receive the itinerary I sent you?" Strange pointed to the giant folder he'd been carrying, "I was rather hoping you'd read my hypothesis on the atom diffraction of crystalline surfaces."

Darcy stared at their host vacantly; still trying to register what he was saying to her through that impeccable British accent of his. Did she really come off as her doctorate holding friend? Well she had certainly dressed formally enough for the occasion today, hence her sweating of bullets, but it had never occurred to her hat someone could confuse her with Jane. Matthews, of course, was of no help leaning against the double doors with a huge shit eating grin on his face.

"Well, actually, sir I am _not_ Jane Foster," Strange blinked taken aback by that admission and Darcy nervously continued, "I _am _however assisting her for my internship at S.H.I.E.L.D. through Culver University."

After getting over his shock he hurriedly responded with a, "oh, well terribly sorry about that." But Darcy could just_ tell_ he seemed genuinely confused by her presence there. Not to mention her having a placement with such a suspicious organization like S.H.I.E.L.D. She saw it in the way it was sketched across that highly-esteemed face of his, "and how are you… enjoying your studies out in the field? That must be _quite _the prestigious internship working alongside Dr. Foster for a-a?" He glanced curiously at her and then to the field agent next to her for a little help but Darcy had gone stiff as a rod.

"She's a Political Science Undergrad." Jacob coughed and in her mind Darcy glared daggers at her security blanket turned double agent.

You pathetic wuss Matthews, she thought, angry for being placed in such an awkward situation.

"Tell me however did you manage that?" The Doctor exclaimed loudly enough to cause the intern to feel faint, "ah, forgive me this must be something new that Universities do these days with the Liberal Arts. I fail to see how well you will be able to translate what you've learned towards your degree. Exactly how does one apply political science to astrophysics?"

Darcy went blank. It wasn't that she didn't know how to reply. She knew _exactly_ what she hoped to do with all that she had learned. Having now worked for S.H.I.E.L.D she hoped to find something to fall back upon besides the law schools her parents kept pushing her towards. But, for some reason or another, it was hard for her to articulate all this into a conversation. It wasn't the first time some nosey person had asked her this question or the first time she'd asked it of herself. Perhaps it was because a small part of her still doubted her reasons for being there as well.

"Like in astrophysics, political science consists of two elements: the study of systems and the elements thereof. Granted, they're investigations mainly rely upon normative assessments, but their procedures _are_ still similar to that of scientific method-" Darcy's heart skipped a bit at the sudden recognition of _whose _voice it was behind her.

"Miss Lewis has under seen my project's development from the very beginning. Where most people would think my work controversial, even frightening she has stood by me just as excited as I was to see what was out there." Darcy was grinning from ear to ear when she turned around to see her scientist friend, but of course, Jane Foster, rambling lecturer, didn't stop there. "Any hiring committee, whether academic or federal government, would be _mad _not to want her and if they _do_ ever question her validity…well she'll certainly still have me for a reference."

Jane really knew how to make her feel like a million bucks.

"All important traits in an assistant I'm sure...," muttered Strange rather foggily causing Darcy's dislike for the Doctor to rise, "Jane Foster than I take it?" He asked a second time, as he shot out a hand for her to shake. Quick like a whip Jane took his hand nodding her head enthusiastically.

The spotlight no longer on her Darcy could finally breathe a little easier and take some time to observe her travel worn friend's mousy appearance. With her hair done up in a bun Jane appeared smaller than usual, in fact, she seemed a lot frailer; like she hadn't been getting that much sleep. Shadows had appeared to wrap themselves around her eyes. And here after getting the chance to visit her alive and well mentor Darcy had expected to see a happier, livelier Jane.

What had that visit with Erik done to her?

"-your earlier research on finding shorter de Broglie wavelengths to reanimate the human atom is simply fascinating. I never imagined there were texts out there arguing for human reanimation through bi-photon interferometry." Jane gushed.

Dr. Strange frowned at Jane's recognition of his work, "you've really done your research on me. I must admit I am a bit astounded. I didn't know they had most of that still in print," Strange wrung his hands as his frown deepened, "I'm afraid those days are far behind me Miss Foster, my research veered too much on science fiction for the scientific community's liking." Strange was swift to change topics, "Speaking of the stuff of fiction have you met this mysterious financial benefactor of ours yet?"

"He is quite the mystery, isn't he?" Jane exclaimed, "Agent Sitwell has been very quiet on the subject of him over at S.H.I.E.L.D."

Just as Jane and Strange were gushing like little school girls Darcy's eardrums began to twitch, there was some kind of a humming noise coming from somewhere above them other than the drilling of construction inside the manor and it was driving her _nuts_. That noise…was it really just her or was it now getting _louder_? It wasn't. Darcy could tell Matthews heard it too.

"Well, he _was_ supposed to meet with the University's team about a week ago to debrief us and keep us updated on your coming arrival. I've been trying to get S.H.I.E.L.D. to give me his contact information, but to no avail. On numerous occasions I've given them the documents of our project's financial budget and needs and, well…nothing. It makes me wonder what type of a businessman he is," Strange muttered, now perturbed and red in the face with displeasure.

It became rather unmistakable now as to where the humming noise was coming from and turning her attention away from the scientists Darcy's jaw dropped as she looked out towards the expanse of Strange's estate. What on earth were those agents doing over there? They'd been leaving some type of markers on the grass like one would when setting up a landing pad.

"Uh, guys…" Darcy gulped.

Everyone stared in their shock, well everyone except for Matthews that was, he was too busy talking into his iphone and giving a "Roger that." The rhythmic "wop-wop" of a large helicopter's tail rotor had now made conversation close to impossible as it hovered over Sanctum Manor; with its red, black metallic paint and sharp logo of a giant "A" making its way past them to idle on the ground.

"_Who_?" Dr. Carl Strange barked as his entire body shook. His rage _very_ evident and fully on the field agent next to him, but Matthews simply cocked his head to smirk and say, "your benefactor."

Well there goes the neighborhood, Darcy thought wincing from all of Strange's shouting. As the cool and collected sir scientist raised his arms up and down towards the copter in outcry only to drift menacingly closer to Jacob's personal bubble, "he doesn't have authorization for _that_! He doesn't have-Why were we _not_ informed of _this_?"

Ducking out of the still copter hopped out the figures of two men; one suave and thin the other square and built.

"Wow," Darcy gasped at the familiar faces. There stood the eccentric billionaire Tony Stark, in his expensive Armani suit with suitcase in hand, and the American hero Steve Rogers in nothing but jeans and a t-shirt with what looked like a logo for the American Olympic team.

"Hee~y!" Came the smooth sing-song voice of their benefactor as he waved a puzzled Captain America following suit behind him. Unable to speak the group remained star struck, all except Strange who, still red in the face, came across as looking _less _than pleased_._

"So, look I'm gonna make this real quick cause I'm kinda running short on time, gotta meet with the US Olympic committee over our choice of a mascot here-," Stark sighed placing his hands on top of Captain America's broad shoulders.

"Tony," The Captain gave off a warning growl clearly not liking being touched by Stark.

"Which one of you is Jane Foster?" Stark piped up eyeing the both of them; there was a bit of silent staring until Jane shyly raised her hand.

"Ah, huh great met your boyfriend by the way, swell guy," Jane's entire face changed from serious to pink in a matter of seconds as Stark continued, "well Jane kinda need this," from his pocket he handed Jane crumpled sheets of blueprints, "made into a reality think you could do that for me there, sweetheart?"

"Those are the designs for my-are my-how on earth did you_ get_ this? I mean…why?" Jane, so thoroughly overwhelmed, could barely speak.

"Well, say evil decides to invade us again, right? As you already know we've got Selvig working for us in Norway but he's only one man. And astrophysicists, believe it or not, are kinda hard to come by, especially ones like you. You do see where I'm going with this, right Jane?" It appeared Tony Stark suffered from an intense case of motor mouth and here Darcy thought she had it bad.

"The creation of an inter-dimensional portal though is-this is just _theory_ I mean it's not even past any prototype stages yet. How on earth do you expect me to build one without any of the materials or, or-" Jane looked like she was going to faint.

It was around this time that Strange, whose face was now contorted into a giant red balloon, interjected, "You've decided this just now then, _hmmm_? And what of Miss Foster's obligation to the expedition? Or are you simply going to have your teleporter on _my_ property like you have your helicopter and not inform me of _that_ as well?" The scientist bristled.

"This whole place is yours, huh?" Tony whistled not in the least bit worried by Strange's harsh tone or expression, "Woof- talk about spooksville Transylvania over here! How much for the ghost in the window? Ha, I'm just pulling your leg, uh Mr-?"

"Sir Carl Strange," The Doctor snarled, "the man in _charge _of the "BlueHenge" expedition, the one you were _supposed _to be funding. In fact, I have all the documentation right here on the matter-" Strange muttered as he pulled out form after form from his giant folder, "Now that you've _finally_ arrived your signature is needed on a vast majority of things that I have organiz-"

"Yeah, I don't like to be handed things-," Tony winced at the mere mention of it, "I have this peeve."

"You have a _what_?" Strange sputtered completely taken aback.

"Maybe you should take the forms Tony," Rogers butted in clearly sympathetic to Strange's plight.

"Steve please let me handle this," Stark reciprocated, "Now, don't get me wrong Strange-Love she'll be taking part in your Stonehenge dig-a-roo too, but to an _extent_. And it's not like we're making a doomsday device or anything here it's just that some things have to take precedence over others. Think of it as her side project if you will-" As Stark continued to talk Darcy wasn't sure if he meant the expedition or the teleporter as being "on the side." It was like he had become a divorced father discussing play dates with an ex-wife.

"But-" Strange sputtered once again.

Handing his suitcase to a startled Captain America Tony popped it open to grab what looked to be a cheque book. And in a flash he began signing it.

"Will this cover your costs?" Stark innocently asked.

From the way Strange kept ogling the flimsy piece of paper Darcy could only assume that Stark had transformed into some type of a financial fairy godmother.

"This is-this is _more_ than enough, in fact it's _brilliant_!"

"_Smashing_!" Stark exclaimed rather mockingly elicitating a loud groan from the Captain.

"Aren't you going to visit the site and weigh in on our discoveries, Mr. Stark?" Inquired Jane finally coming out of her shell shock.

"Nyah, I've seen the place from up above-looks pretty-" Tony glanced at the Doctor giving his cheque a once-over to turn to Jane, "-_strange_."

"If anything, focus on that research thesis of yours and find out why the place gives off the same low level radiation as the Tesseract any other pretty baubles you find will just be an added bonus."

Suddenly examining his fingernails Stark began to fidget, "as much as I'd love to stay and chit- chat over tea and biscuits I'm a very busy man with a public image to maintain. Gotta get the logos for Team USA's uniforms out what with their largest cash sponsor gone belly-up. But I trust you'll keep everything in order for me." Stark winked at Jane and then at Darcy causing both their faces to turn red, "I'll even make it up to you all and order everyone some t-shirts," He stated as he waggled his eyebrow at them, "who wants some Olympic swag, hmm?"

"Oooh, _ooh _me!" Darcy chirped in, immediately raising her hand only to instantly shoot it down at the looks she received from the scientists,"_what_?" She muttered glaring at the ground.

It all felt so _surreal._

"Very well than…,"Strange stuttered, the first of them to speak once the ringing noise from Stark's copter had left their ears, "If you could all wait here I'll only be a moment. Once I arrange for my staff to leave I will give you a bit of a tour before I go." Darcy could hear him muttering to himself as he left, and though she couldn't catch all of it, she was pretty sure he had muttered something along the lines of, "_Americans!_"

Once alone Darcy turned to her friend for a giant bear hug, "Oh, Jane I could simply _kiss_ you for that save back there from Dr. Strange, you are seriously like my science angel!" Matthews snorted at Darcy's choice of flattery.

"I don't even want to get into the logistics of how those two words don't fit together, Darcy." Jane stated as she wrinkled her nose in her friend's direction, "and don't let this go to your head, either… just remember you owe me one."

Now with the funding to have her project pushed into the prototype stages Jane looked absolutely ecstatic, as did her intern. The excitement hitting the young assistant like a big bag of bricks, so much so, that when Strange had finally come to beckon them in Darcy had dropped her belongings by the double doors and rushed past Jane and Matthews full force.

With little regard for what awaited them inside.


	5. The Haunted IV

**A/N~**

**Hello all!**

**A few things have been changed just nothing pivotal to the plot. I've been editing a lot with the help of 2 awesome BETA's named BrazenMonkey and TheSopranoinShadow both of whom I was very blessed to get a hold of and who helped my story lose a lot of weight! At least 8 pages... Yaay! Thank you!**

***Expect an update around late May. I'm mid-way through writing the next chapter I just need the stress of school to subside and some major BETA-ing done. ****If no update happens you have my permission to pester me to your hearts content.**

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The Haunted

Chapter 4

"We're all of us haunted and haunting."

― Chuck Palahniuk, _Lullaby_

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The first thing Darcy Lewis noticed as she entered the building was the musty stale air and the clutter of valuables ranging from antique radios to giant manuscripts disgruntled workers shifted by them with.

As Strange escorted them around his family's hall he told them of how his elderly uncle had been managing the Manor only to become eccentric in his old age; suddenly passing away. Hence, the decrepit in decay state everything was in. But other than that the inside was_ really_ something else.

Sanctum Manor was a medieval mansion that had apparently been under construction for generations. The ceiling frescos where they had entered from were some of the oldest parts of the Manor. Most noticeable the hall's large circular glass window that hung over the foyer. With its criss-cross curved wedges of black swooping lines and intricate stained glass, it was like being surrounded by a thousand tiny symbols. Strange called the design an ancient algorithm; Darcy thought it beautiful. Even the floors they stood upon had symbols woven into their tiles. The quarry of stones having come from the rubble of the Sanctum Santorum Monastery buried beneath them. The name meaning holiest of holies. Ascending each side of the Manor stood two flights of staircases going up to the second floor where they'd be spending they're nights. The place even housed a library leading directly to an attic built specifically for housing the Strange family heirlooms.

Passing family photos and rusting suits of armor they made their way through a corridor to the left wing and all the while Darcy could feel the giddiness rising within her. To spend all her time with Jane in such an atmospheric building …it'd be like living in a _museum. _And, as if reading her mind, Matthews moved up behind her to whisper in her ear. "You want to wander off and explore don't you?" His words sent shivers down Darcy's spine, but she pushed the feeling back as he continued, "face it Darcers you're as obvious as a punch in the face."

"I'll Falcon Punch you in the face for what you did to me back there!" She growled only to receive stares from Jane and the other agents gathering around Strange, "just how many of you are staying with us if there are only eight rooms?" She whispered, "I mean you heard him! The guy just said the servant's quarters is now the sunroom."

Happy to see that she was finally talking to him Jacob sheepishly spoke up, "Most of them are off to London to keep tabs on the Mutant hate rallies. I mean come on not _that _many of us are needed here. What do we have to worry about? _Ghosts_?"

Oh, whatever, Darcy thought while pushing past him, the way she figured it the less of them the better. Her interest now seamlessly back on the illusion of length the corridor was causing her to feel. They had entered the living room and the place looked like a cluster fuck of generational gaps, like a Jackson Pollock, it had her eyes moving in all directions. To the left of her lay a portion of the room with a television set, couch and comforter the so called ailing uncle had most likely spent all his time in. With microwave dinner wrappings scattered along a giant throw rug by the fireplace somber portraits of relatives stared them down through thick layers of dust. The afternoon light streaming through the windows to cast eerie shadows along their somber faces. But what struck Darcy most was the self-portrait at the center of them.

He was tall and slender with a fair, sanguine complexion. His long black hair pulled back into a dignified ponytail as he wore red velvet like one would an artist's gown. He was a very handsome man but his eyes looked haggard, it wrapped the entire room in an air of misery. He clutched what looked like some type of a pendant, a bronzed amulet in the shape of an eye, swirling beads decorating its core. It was the oddest thing she had ever seen. Entranced by him and what he wore Darcy became full of questions.

"What's that around his neck?" she compulsively asked the Doctor.

But, instead of appealing to her inquisitive nature, Strange rudely ignored her, continuing on with his tour. It had been the fourth question of hers to be shot down by him that day and it was leading her to _really_ dislike the doctor. She knew how he viewed her being there and her station but would it kill him to at least be polite to her? He was releasing feelings in her long bottled up...ones of her own inadequacies.

It wasn't until Jane had asked him the same thing that Darcy learned the picture had apparently been of the first owner of the house. Following the 'Dissolution of the Monasteries' the Crown had taken possession of the estate, rebuilt it, and granted ownership to Sir Stephen Strange a court physician of Queen Elizabeth I. And then, that was that, Stephen Strange's descendant didn't want to be asked anymore questions about the man, looking as though he was just_ itching_ to get out of the room_._

"I truly am sorry but I really _must_ get going. If you need anything, anything at all, just call this number at the address," With an apologetic look on his face, Strange handed Jane a paper pad, "I reside in Greenwich Village it's only a two hour drive away. We will, of course, allow you to settle in for a few days… I mean we really weren't expecting you so _soon_." And with a nervous laugh he was gone leaving them to their own devices.

Once Strange had departed Jane's mood shifted from ridiculously perky to deliberately anti-social; investing all her time to unpacking rather than mingling with the rest of them. Handing Darcy the usb drive with her and Selvig's work to be reformatted she ignored her friend's questions on how Erik fared. With a quick "maybe later Darcy" the scientist had shut the door to her room on her intern's face.

The day had now turned from exciting to a complete downer as she made her way to the bedroom Strange had placed her in; her face instantly falling at what she saw. She'd been placed in a children's nursery room! Possibly the smallest room in the entire house!

Its walls a discolored yellow with ugly hues of olive the room looked Victorian in stature but with a failed modern twist. The place itself a stale reminder of where children had once slept, washed, and played and Darcy figured it hadn't _really_ been in use since Strange was a child; the musty beds causing her to go into a sneezing fit.

Hands turned to fists Darcy looked for a way to calm herself down and at least make the best of her situation; using all her anger to lift the notches of her window to get some air circulating in the room. Strange's actions had burned her, left her to feel small and self-conscious, like a bad taste in the mouth. Something she really didn't need to feel right now with her imminent return to school in a few months; leaving her right back to square one wondering what she was going to be doing with the rest of her life.

And, if placing her in a nursery wasn't enough, the room was littered with creepy china dolls; some lying along the table, behind the mirror, lined up against the desk. Darcy _hated_ realistic looking dolls with a passion, and instead of fully unpacking, she took her time turning their heads around so they wouldn't _look_ at her.

She was just about to insert her laptop cord into an electrical outlet and start work when she stopped. Hadn't she seen Jacob and Wilson playing Galaga on Jacob's cell? That meant they had hacked into some type of secret S.H.I.E.L.D Internet hot-spot downstairs, right? Locating Matthews with the other agents partaking in a sword fight Darcy interrogated him for his password only to come up empty handed(the man had downloaded Galaga while at the airport).

It was then that Darcy discovered something else about her agent that day something she wished she really hadn't. Matthews, it seemed, still kept lingering feelings for an ex, her presence cluttering up his cell phone. A girl he had no problem showing off as they bickered over passwords. Darcy felt sick inside. She should have known all the attention he lathered on her was too good to be true.

And now sitting alone in the one room with the most light, her workload by her side and a heavy sense of self-pity, Darcy Lewis tried to at least enjoy the sunroom's curved glass corners while working in silence. The rest of the agents having scattered after the lecture their superior, agent Sitwell, had given them for fooling around on S.H.I.E.L.D. time.

"All work and no pay makes Darcy a dull girl," the intern muttered as she typed on only to stare off outside. As much as she hated to admit it Matthews had been right about her earlier. The entire place was going to be like one giant distraction and already she had a case of the wanderlust just looking out at the vast expanse of weeds and overgrown gardens before her.

Well, she thought, it's not like anyone would notice if I were gone for a little while, and with that somber thought in mind Darcy Lewis took off to get a better view of the estate. Although it wasn't the most prestigious of country houses from a far Sanctum Manor still managed to retain an air of opulence. And now after having wandered quite the distance she didn't really want to turn back just yet. The soil she walked along deeply rutted grooves full of weeds, a vacant lot, and rather refreshing after being stuck in a moving vehicle all day.

Now feeling the need to do more than just stretch her limbs Darcy hummed a simple melody, and with no one around to watch her or tell her what to do, she half-heartedly moved along to the music in her head, running hands along long blades of weedy grass; ignoring the flow of thoughts that troubled her; on Matthews and his Ex, Strange and his slights, Jane and her aloofness. There was something freeing about not being bothered by her thoughts. To just relax and allow herself to feel lost in the moment.

And there in lied Darcy's mistake; for the hot summer weather was shifting, heavy in its humidity, coming in streams of mist to cloak the bleak landscape, clothing it like a heavy garment. The air now turned thick to the point where she could barely see, her glasses so dampened she had to take them off.

A crackle of energy flitted through her, a thickening in the air as she realized she was _not_ alone. A man had been _following_ her.

He was not too far off from where she stood and thinking him one of the agents, or worse Matthews, Darcy nervously brushed back strands of frizzy hair to give him a sheepish smile; utterly red with her embarrassment. And yet… the man looked shocked that she had even spotted him at all.

From what Darcy could manage without her glasses on was that he was an incredibly tall man in an incredibly odd getup with an inky mess of black hair; his eyes boring holes straight into her as he just kept _staring_. She didn't know why but something inside her propelled her towards him.

"Hey!" She yelled out to the stranger as he slinked further away. Who was this guy if not an agent?

Fear rolled over Darcy as it became harder and harder for her to discern right from left and left from right in the growing mist as she desperately tried to follow her follower. Her interest now piqued, but not for long, as clammy hands tightly gripped her by the shoulders and pulled her back.

Darcy screamed, the sound reverberating throughout the fields, causing frightened birds to scatter into flight; the mist parting paths to reveal, not her mystery man, but the glaring image of Dr. Strange.

"It would be _very_ wise for you to _never_ do that again," The doctor sternly droned his voice barely above a whisper, "the fog here…plays tricks on the eyes." Spinning her round to look at her folly Darcy gasped as she realized what she had only been a few steps away from. They were hovering over a steep cliff, small rocks falling from their movements to drop into a deep whirling pool of water. The man had saved her life.

"S-sorry it's just I-sometimes get-," she stuttered, trying to catch her bearings; quickly thinking of a lie, "so lost in thought-?"

Strange's intense glare hung with suspicion until finally his crinkled brow softened."That's quite... alright. I often forget what it's like to be young. It took me about half a decade to figure out what I wanted to dedicate _my_ life to-" Darcy paused, was this his absent-minded way of apologizing to her for being such an ass to her earlier?

"Once I even flirted with the idea of becoming a surgeon-," he stopped at that sentence only to stare at his hands, "but we have to valiantly face what life throws at us, don't we?_ Demons_ and all."

What the hell was _that_ supposed to mean? And what the hell was he still doing lurking around here if he had told them earlier he needed to get going? But Darcy opted not to ask him that, for he could very well ask her something similar; her dislike of the doctor rising in her once again.

"There's a storm brewing Ms. Lewis… it'd be in your best interest to head inside." Darcy simply nodded, at this point willing to agree to anything the scientist said to get her out of such an awk-_weird_ situation.

And now, back in the Manor safe and sound, Darcy sullenly sat by her laptop typing away and listening to music; finding comfort in the sunroom's large mullion windows now bathed in rain drops from the growing mist. Once again burdened with work, once again left to her own devices, only this time round they revolved around that possible figment of her imagination, that mystery man. Was it just here or were the similarities between him and Strange's ancestor remarkably _uncanny_?

While her mind raced with questions Darcy's computer began playing Muse's latest song Survival and thrilled by the news that they'd be featured in the Olympics Darcy concentrated on the lyrics rather than the loud rat-a-tat of rain drops against the window panes.

"_I'll reveal my strength, to the whole human race. Yes I am prepared to stay alive-" _for some odd reason the song was skipping on her; jumping back to the beginning, then slowing down, then speeding up, until finally the words no longer made any sense. _"I w-t fo-giv—an- I w- gi-ve i-,"_and then nothing, leaving Darcy to stare at her screen and wonder...the hell?

"_Because I choose to thrive!" _Darcy yelped, throwing her head phones to the floor as that last bit of song practically blasted her eardrums out. What the_ F_ was going on here? Her computer had indicated low battery and flipped off… but that wasn't even possible because it had been fully charged only seconds ago! It was as though something had sucked the energy right out of it.

A loud crash was heard against the window pane to the right of her; startling the intern out of her stupor. Darcy jumped up from her seat to investigate where it had come from, but there was nothing there, so why-

Darcy's heart stopped as a bird came crashing down the middle of a window pane above her. Near where she'd been sitting only moments ago. The fatal collision of flesh against glass leaving a gaping hole.

Heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird Darcy felt some major chills rippling down her spine. The large magpie was just lying there unmoving. And as seconds turned to minutes, slowly but surely, Darcy tried making her way around the thing to get to her computer; tip-toeing discretely across broken glass.

The bird was no more than an arms-length away from her when it sat up and propelled itself towards her biting her in the leg with all its strength. Darcy cried out, shaking it off her and kicking it as far away from her as she could; watching in horror as it made its way towards her again to suddenly just-

Drop dead.

Trying to repress the feeling of wanting to curl up into a small bundle and hide, Darcy rolled up her pants up to examine herself for any bruising, goosebumps rushing over her flesh at what she saw lingering in the mist outside. For it wasn't rain that had been hitting the sunroom's windows but crows, crows now dead and littering the ground like a bad omen.

When the agent calvary had finally arrived with Jane and Sitwell in tow Darcy was a complete mess, not because of what she'd seen, she had already rationalized the birds were the result of the impeding storm...It was what she had felt _afterwards_. Like she was going in and out of a dazed trance; feeling wickedly cold even though it was sizzling hot inside Darcy literally felt drained. Like someone had taken a hold of her head and was shaking it like a pair of maracas; clouding her vision and making everything _hurt_.

Jane attributed Darcy's flu like symptoms to the fatigue of not having really eaten anything substantial all day. And as Sitwell began to call someone in to clean the scientist lead her intern to the dining room table all the while telling her how Strange had dropped groceries off for their supper.

Taking some of Jane's aspirin Darcy felt slightly better at the dinner table, her bad habit of shaking having gone down somewhat as they made light conversation under the flickering light of a chandelier. It was only when Matthews had attributed her sickness to a mild case of hypochondria that Darcy reverted back to her old self again, getting a few laughs out of everyone in the room.

Trying to go about her day like normal was exasperating after all the amount of weird so it was no surprise that after dinner Darcy Lewis excused herself and went off to bed. Her peculiar illness having faded slightly; the only thing she felt now was fatigue. Pushing the window down sadly wasn't an option for her anymore; with no anger to fuel her strength, Darcy could only glare in its direction. Listening to her iPod was also a no go. The stupid thing, like her computer, was glitchy.

So instead Darcy tried to come up with another way to calm her nerves as she slowly began nodding off. Keeping her mind occupied on other things, things she could enjoy thinking about in the comfort of her own privacy; things that would definitely warm her up. Darcy's lucid thoughts began to run along the lines of the handsome Captain America in nothing but that shirt and tight jeans he'd worn today, all rugged and cut. What would it be like to run her hands along the sinews of those taut muscles? Darcy's cheeks reddened at the thought.

And then she thought of Thor's Princess Bride looking friend… what had his name been?There'd been a dashing thrown in there somewhere when he had gently kissed her hand in New Mexico. Darcy still remembered how ticklish his facial hair had been against her skin.

Oh, well it wasn't like his name mattered as she thought of his broad shoulders, tanned skin, and radiant smile. Was he the type to play the gentleman and take it slow? Or would he play at something more...? Finding the whole idea of being with the God rather stimulating desire coursed through Darcy's body; her thoughts wickedly suggestive and rotating around where else she'd of liked that Robin Hood to have kissed her.

And as her thoughts turned hot and steamy with her Prince Charming an abrupt and sudden change took place, causing those thoughts to shift like the tide, leading her to suddenly feel a slight breeze, a cool force come over her. It hovered around her abdomen; causing the hair on her skin to prickle as if a hand had been lying flat against her stomach as images rushed through Darcy's mind in bright glaring detail. It was…the weirdest thing, the pleasure of her thoughts magnified a tenth fold; her breathing coming out in short heavy gasps.

She suddenly thought of someone else, of inky black hair and smooth pale skin like her stranger had, had, but this man in particular she pictured in much_ more_ menacing detail. His eyes sparkling, dangerous, and cold; his lips chapped, scarred, and frozen against her bared flesh; his tongue the opposite, warm, soft and wet. It pressed up intimately into her own as they both moaned from such close contact. Their kisses more fevered and needy now; nipping, biting, and caressing as they both tried to match each other blow for blow.

And then suddenly her thought intruder stopped his ministrations on her botched reddened lips and moved on to other more delicious ventures. Using that serpentine tongue of his like a weapon he began leaving slick wet trails across her neck and collarbone. Circling the length of her exposed breasts and moving even lower to invade her fluttery stomach, her shaking inner thighs, nudging open her-

Darcy outwardly gasped in sharp surprise, now clutching the bed post and panting from how her most inner thoughts had up and turned on her; flooding her with all types of sensations and imagery.

Her uninvited guest had taken the place of where that Prince Charming should have been and things were escalating quickly; lying over top of her she pictured his weight tightly pressed up against her to the point were she could feel every part of him; every crevice and slope, every sinewy muscle for sinewy muscle as he pushed his hard length inside her. His rough hands squeezing and moving her hips in tandem to steady his thrusts, his imagined breaths coming out in the same short heated gasps as her own as they relentlessly pushed and shoved against each other for release. His expression as he lay over top of Darcy echoing exactly how she felt; his look one of glazed desire, heavy with wanting but also...Of complete and utter shock.

The vibrations of what followed coursed through Darcy Lewis as her mind screamed the man's name like a prayer, a chant to finally die down into a soft whisper, a tremor along her lips. A name of a man, no a _God_ she had never meant to picture.

No longer frozen to the spot by her lucid imagination, Darcy shook herself free from her hazy daze. Now sitting up straight as a rod, she shuddered in disbelief at who she had actually fantasized about.

_Loki_.

She'd heard of lucid dreaming before... but the dark God who had crippled Manhattan? That was just overkill. Why would her mind turn to...that the thought of such a man could even _thrill_ her made Darcy's face flush red; the tension in her gut rising as she no longer felt like she was the only one in the room; the loud clatter of noise near the open window confirming her sick feeling.

Darcy ran to turn the light switch on only to see that the mirror by the window had been shattered. Like someone had taken a fist and punched a hole straight through; its shards now resting on the floor still vibrating from the hard blow.

Having heard the racket Jacob came running up the stairs to check in on her, and after learning what had happened...actually had the audacity to laugh, telling her, of all things, that her dead birds had clearly come back for some revenge. Matthews really knew how to _not _make her feel better, and Darcy told him so, with her fists.

"Trust me_, Darc_e_rs_ there are no ghosts in here, and even if there were… this entire place is covered with highly trained special agents! Have at least a _little_ faith in us that we could take em." Darcy simply nodded getting incredibly uncomfortable by his nearness; especially while in her pajamas...especially after the monster of a lucid dream attack she had just had. There was no way in hell she was going to share that with him! Even if she was still _shaken_ from it_._

"And maybe next time don't leave your window open for all those wacky birds to come flying in," Jacob muttered, stepping over the shards of broken mirror to slam her window shut and lock it into place, "you know the reflection confuses them right?" Darcy nodded again wishing that he'd just _leave her alone_ so that she could stew in her own embarrassment. And with a foppish smile, Jacob did just that, leaving the shaken intern in peace.

And, just as Darcy Lewis was about to go to bed her fists clutched deeply into the blankets as she glared off into the shadows.

"I ain't fraid of _no_ ghosts,"she whispered, uttering the Ghostbuster mantra for comfort, but even to her own ears her voice sounded weak and unsure. It was as if there was something out there that knew otherwise and was having a good laugh at her expense.

Because if that hadn't been a ghost as Matthews had implied...

Then where the _hell_ was that bird that had hit her mirror?

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**A/N:**

**Oh, hai there! You still there reader? You deserve a giant pat on the back for making it this far... I know I wrote A LOT! You deserve a cookie!**

**Next on the docket Loki's p.o.v is he dead? Alive? In purgatory? Did he get a shock at the things that go on in Darcy's pervy mind?**

**Let me know what you thought!**


	6. The Haunted V

**Author Ramblings:**

**So after a ridiculously long wait the last chapter of The Haunted is now up with more Loki P.O.V goodness. Yaay! Now that school is no longer whooping my free time's butt I've had more time to write. I've also landed my dream internship at a Museum (double yaay!). Hopefully this chapter is able to clear up some confusion over what happened to Loki at the end of the first chapter. He was in quite the dilemma ;p**

**A big thank you goes out to my sweet, sweet Beta Soprano Shadow who has been kind enough to go through the pains of editing this behemoth for me.**

**And a big, big thank you to everyone who has reviewed faved and followed me thus far! ****I'm always worried that this story is either boring or confusing to readers and its nice to hear otherwise. **Its also nice to know that there are signs of life out there and that I am not just typing into a giant white void of internet. **So yeah! Hope everyone enjoys this chapter I had a lot of fun writing it!**

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The Haunted

Chapter 5

"_Yes I am prepared_

_To stay alive_

_I won't forgive, the vengeance is mine_."

-Muse

_Am I cursed?_

Once again he was falling. Only this time round it would not feel like the eternity it had when he had fallen from Asgard. Instead he was on a crash collision course with Earth. As the control over the raven he had shifted into dwindled the further he receded from Hela's grasp, the world below him suddenly became a _lot_ clearer. And the more Loki struggled to keep his small wingspan from spiraling, the more he realized something was not _right_ with this world. Midgard's usually colorful landscapes were unnaturally twisted and grey, like burnt skewered glass.

This was _not_ the Midgard he had expected to return to. This was one of the many dimensions outside of Hel's jurisdiction-a gap between fire and ice- between the mixed heat of Muspelheim and the cold frost of Niflheim. He had never reached the land of the mortal living as he had first thought but its foggy in- between state of wandering demons and mortal damned.

_Of all the places to have ended up in… purgatory. _The God cursed his poor luck.

Had he the foresight he would have noticed that the very essence that made up the river Gjöll had been by proximity rejuvenating him, spoon feeding him energy his spirit now ached to return to. His soul, the soul of a God, restless when trapped in the river now felt drained of its resources. And try as he might he did not have the energy to lift his small wing span any higher towards the fading glow of Gjöll. His only option lying within the mysterious runes below him, but they too grew just as elusive to find.

At a loss for what to do Loki found himself going in and out of consciousness. His life flashing before him; his clearest memory, the most vivid, that of his time spent with the Mad Titan.

Over a bubbling well of infinity an astral projection of the Mad Titan Thanos had revealed to Loki lives lived and lost, all of which had been his own. And their stories had always gone along the same lines, even if the roles of those involved had been completely different. Odin, Frigga, Thor it didn't matter what role they had played. The bubbling well would always play out the same scenario. His purpose predetermined for him by birth. Where Thor was Asgard's protector, and Odin was its beginning, Loki remained its untimely end, the Ragnarok. And it had been all so incredibly _horrifying_. Trapped within a cycle of death, forever being hated, never truly his father's son, never truly meant to _rule_…that was, unless of course, he willingly aided Thanos.

And he had at first until _she, _the Cosmic Cube, had broken the Titan's spell. The Tesseract's power held far greater control over him than the Chitauri ever had. It was her mysterious energies that had allowed him to hide his thoughts and location of the Infinity Gems. Her strong hymn of power that had allowed him time to plot his _own_ destiny…

_And where did that get me? _The God thought, his mind now racing, wandering, fading, _what am I now but a series of poor decisions? The very definition of madness: repeating myself._

Without warning a pulse passed through Loki's new form, shaking him awake.

Something was watching him, like a warm familiar caress reaching out to him, something not of this realm. Loki's mind quickly worked to discern what it was but all of his thoughts drifted towards the impossible: the Tesseract. He truly must be losing it if he could feel the bond they shared now and yet… he knew the self-aware matrix _wanted_ him!

He needed to find out _why_, he needed to find a way to it, but right now that would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, especially now that the Cube had manifested a mind of its own. And unfortunately shape shifting, as he was quickly learning, was not an option for him anymore. And so Loki pushed all of his remaining strength outwards, projecting hypnotic signals in the hopes that they might lure something, _anything_, for him to possess. It was a terrible risk, to spread his vulnerable consciousness out like this, but a risk he was going to have to take in order to retrieve the Tesseract and return to Asgard. And, as his mind dispersed, he felt as though something began to tug- something from the world of the _living-_willingly drawing in his bait.

A flock of birds in the nearby area had heard his call and like moths to a flame they swarmed round his spirit in droves. Gathering and feeding off the energy the creatures now supplied him Loki was quick to possess them body and mind. The lower life forms easy enough to manipulate as their wings flapped in unison to his will. The many eyes within the flock now his, as his vision adjusted to their colorful world.

_Nothing. _His bird's eye view saw nothing but barren rocks, green countryside, and a house. And yet, upon closer inspection this was no ordinary mortal household. It shone with hidden powers, magical properties, and…and S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives? They had gathered round the vast estate as if to stake their claim on it, and they had come prepared, with an array of strange Midgardian gadgets by their side.

As an incorporeal being, Loki could not _feel_ emotion but the birds he possessed could, and at the sight of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, rage filtered through Loki's host bodies more primitive parts of the brain.

_Were they too after the Tesseract?_ The God wondered his mood dour as he commanded his flock to split up and spy.

"_Matthews_!" A high-pitched voice squeaked from underneath one of his many perches. A man and woman were arguing, the bespectacled female was an amusing sight to behold as her bright eyes glared daggers towards her companion. Her chest heaving comically in anger at something the man had said. In her strange Midgardian getup the female reeked of familiarity- no doubt she was one of _Thor's_ little friends, which could only spell opportunity for _him_.

But for now Loki paid the couple no heed far more entranced with the aura coming off the man that they headed towards. Now this mortal practically radiated energy, a blockade of dark miasma festering around him like a shroud, the very same as the household behind him. It was an alchemy the God knew of well, _dark magic_, the kind that relied on extra-dimensional sources.

_When did those simpletons over at S.H.I.E.L.D have a practicing sorcerer in their custody?_

Loki _ached_ at the prospect of possessing such magic, of consuming the energy he knew to be emanating from within that house. And upon his command, the birds drifted closer to the manor. But _something_ was in their way. Symbols, thousands of them, small intricate blue patterns had expelled the very magic binding him to the birds. It left his scouts stranded, immobile, and unresponsive to his commands.

_Now this certainly is interesting._ The God mused thoroughly irritated by this new predicament, _what would mere mortals know of such spells to keep trespassers out?_

He needed to find out. He needed to get closer to that man. He _needed_ to get inside that house.

While Loki tried to make quick work of the barrier his keen eyes spied more familiar faces gathering round the sorcerer; the scientist Jane Foster… his enemies the _Avengers_. At the very sight of them Loki's myriad of birds cawed in triumph. The fact that _they_ were here only confirmed his previous suspicions. Magic may have separated him from hearing their simple banter but he _knew_ what they were after.

_Let them try_, the God glowered, _let them go through all the hard efforts of finding the Tesseract. In the end they will only know failure._

With the Avengers gone, the mortals had now entered the manor leaving Loki even more determined to break the wall. But the more he attacked the barrier's thick exterior, the denser the barrier got, and to his great annoyance, each assault was only absorbed by the wall's intricate symbols.

Without warning the mansion's doors flew open to reveal S.H.I.E.L.D.'s new sorcerer in quite the hurry. Darting out of the main entrance and, heading not towards the gated exit as one would expect, but behind the house and into the courtyard alone. Curious Loki gave up his ongoing assault of the manor in hot pursuit of the man. If he could find a way to possess the wizard hijacking S.H.E.I.L.D's plans for the Tesseract would be an easy victory. And with this in mind, Loki followed the mortal from a distance, only to give pause at what he saw next.

To the unobservant eye past the gardens unkempt groves lay a vacant lot. But the immortal God knew better. The place was rife with magical activity spiritual overlap from the Otherside. Manmade portals had been crafted to communicate and summon the damned here. They had been left scattered across the property and purposely left unattended. Leaving the world of fog to pool and fester through. Leaving that annoying obstacle that protected the house to waver. It was as though someone had worn out the barrier's inner recesses overtime in an effort to get in. And if the wall had been torn here then similar gashes _must_ be elsewhere around the house as well!

Putting an end to his wandering the human sorcerer had now pulled out a large wadjet of gold from around his neck an amulet in the shape of an eye. It beamed with light towards the wall's tears. Engrossed by the man's actions Loki' s flock flew lower to the ground to get a closer look…but it was a _ruse_. The mortal must have known he was being watched for the light's beams had exorcised Loki's spirit from the birds.

_Who are you?_ The man demanded as his mind transcended the physical plane.

Baffled by the extent of the sorcerer's ability Loki battled for control over his feathered bodies only to feel them slipping away every time they flew closer to the light.

_Reveal yourself! _The mortal continued as he mentally prodded Loki for answers, _are you a phantom? _The mortal drew nearer, _or are you one of_ _Dormammu's filthy demon spies?_

With his only connection to the living realm completely scattered the God of Mischief had once again become a vulnerable spirit. And with his cover blown he fled into the safety of man-made portals as he searched for a way back to the manor. But instead of bricklayers he spotted something else looming in the distance. A figure, feminine in its outline its movements were nimble and quick, and fast approaching him.

_ Death? _The God wondered.

But as the mists cleared it became obvious that this was no apparition of death. This was a living breathing mortal woman one who was not just breathing but… dancing?

Every aspect of her movements was unruly, offbeat, and yet precise; a sensual rhythm that spoke of being in a trance. Her hair, a frizzled dark brown, flowed in time with the slow sway of her hips creating disheveled waves that adorned porcelain skin and red lips. Loki stood in abject silence disoriented and bewildered as he marveled at how effortlessly the woman wandered, and how little she seemed to actually be paying attention. It was as though she were dreaming, or a dream herself. He wasn't quite sure, but then he wasn't sure of anything anymore.

_That girl, _Loki thought as he tried to make sense of his delirium only for sudden dawning to hit,_ the strange girl from before!_

Now he _remembered_ her. He had seen her lingering within the memories of Erik Selvig when he controlled the man's heart. She was an apprentice of some sort named-

_Darcy_?

It was in that moment the God sensed an aura radiating off the young woman. It coiled around her body and beckoned to him. Reminding him of how very much he _needed_ to feed from an energy source.

The girl had stopped her day dreaming now to stare transfixed in his direction and Loki froze. The summoning portals were making him visible to the human eye for curious eyes were now squinting and scrutinizing _him_. And as the moist air thickened all around them Loki made to lure the girl closer. That is until he sensed the sorcerer. Not wanting to risk detection Loki fled deeper into the fog, searching once again for a portal that could lead him directly to a weakened part of the manor. But there was _nothing_, nothing but more mist and there was no end of it in sight.

_Life_… like a thirsty man lost in the desert he was _starving_ for it and that woman had been practically _brimming_ with it. But she was lost to him now as was the sorcerer for there was no life out here only death. And with his vision blurring it was becoming harder to tell what was coming next.

_Loki…_

It was the Cube again. She had come out of her hiding to invade his mind once more.

_Where are you?_ He asked of it._ What do you want of me?_ But there was no reply.

What _motive_ did that impossible object have now that it was finally set free? Did it lead him on out of spite? It was incredulous to think that something inanimate could hold a grudge against him but then there was not much that surprised the God anymore about the Tesseract.

Aura swirled in the sky above him parting paths between horizon, mist, and sky. The birds he had lost were returning, all of them moving in unison towards him. The Cube had been leading them to him.

_So she wishes to aid me?_ The God thought rather puzzled.

This would not have been the first time it had offered him salvation having whispered to him promises of power before. If he was in any other state he would have been more cautious but she was far too strong and he was far too _desperate _to ignore her offerings.

Up in the air once again Loki's flock of crows weaved across torrential down pour. The Tesseract had cleared a path for him and in the far distance he could see among the faded roof tops an opening, the smallest crack of a portal, an entry point. That's when he found _her_ again, his target, the girl known as Darcy sitting underneath the arch of a circular window eyes closed, body at ease…and his for the taking.

Tensions rose as Loki's birds experienced turbulence from the house's inner defenses. The flock's instinct to survive robbing him of any sense of direction. And as their lives waned from the crushing grip of the symbols so too did Loki's control over them as they crashed into glass.

He had made it inside the manor but at a great cost. The pain, the impact of landing, had caused him to fade and only one bird remained with him now to draw life from. He _needed _energy, he needed it _quick_, and he knew just the thing.

Like a statue the mortal Darcy stood before him horrified, her breathing coming out in short gasps. Loki could practically taste the life draining off her, feral and raw it spoke of her fright. She was vulnerable and if he played his cards right he could easily overtake her. He just needed to play dead… which in his case would not be a very hard thing to do.

Thinking it safe to move around him, Darcy went to fetch her machine from the table and Loki took this as his chance. It only took him a few seconds to attack. The poor girl never saw it coming.

He had entered human minds before. Destabilizing them, picking at their fears and greedy ambitions but this... _this_ was different because now he faced resistance. The human's mind was strong, strong enough to the point where it actually _fought_ back.

The God cursed. He had still to master the mechanism of this new form of possession. Although he could draw energy from her easily enough he was still unable to tap into her thoughts and memories. They moved far too quickly for him to read much less control. It overwhelmed him: feeling her adrenaline rushing through her blood stream, the pounding of her heart, her muscles as they tensed. To feel just how much he infringed upon her five senses. To experience it, life the way a mortal did. Loki never thought it would be so… _intense._ If he did not stop it now he could lose himself in her, _her._ Wasn't _he_ the one who was supposed to be in control?

With as much restraint as the God could possibly muster he pulled out of the shaking woman's body, dizzy from the strong tings of withdrawal. He had now taken enough of Darcy's aura that, if he wanted to, he could roam the manor freely. And the God decided to do just that. Loki left ignoring the commotion that the S.H.I.E.L.D operatives made as they bustled through the door. For his failed attempt to possess the scientist's assistant frustrated him to no end.

_What a joke I've become,_ Loki scoffed,_ unable to control the wills of weak-minded mortals._ _The God of Mischief reduced to giving little girls nasty head colds._

Unlike the possession of lesser life forms like the birds this whole process of human possession would take him time. And time was not something Loki had on his side with the possibility of Asgard already in ruins because of him.

But he had a _purpose_ for being here.

Somewhere within this very house hold was a powerful magic that lay dormant- one that he had sensed the minute he set eyes on the manor, one that the sorcerer coveted enough to protect from trespassers-and Loki _wanted_ it. Like a mad man he wandered tediously through empty corridors, leaving no stone unturned as he searched for the power he knew to be somewhere within the house. Yet, he might as well have been looking for the Tesseract. Though he could sense its presence he could not _see_ its source. It was as though the magic was coming from deep within the manor's walls and worn-out floor boards…but _how_?

Glancing around somber portraits Loki followed the source's trail until he reached the end of the hallway. There was a small door here, one that appeared to have never been opened. And taking advantage of the fact that he was disembodied consciousness Loki made to pass through it. But he never ended up on the other side. Instead he was right back to where he started: the hallway. Aggravated Loki returned to the door to try again only to end up in the kitchen; the manor had quickly become a maze. And every corridor he walked through, every room he entered and exited out of never lead him in the right direction. He must have set off a trap; some type of a trigger and it was maddening that a _house_ was actually playing tricks on _him_.

Slipping through what felt like countless rooms Loki finally stopped at the smallest one. For in an undersized bed lay the source of his frustration. And without even realizing it, he had moved closer to her bedside. Though her eyes were closed and her expression peaceful Darcy appeared to be suffering from some form of sleeplessness.

_What do you think about, little one?_ Loki mused.

The woman was practically glowing; her aura wrapping itself around her like a snug robe. And without thinking Loki's hand reached out as if to touch it. Perhaps in her calmed state he would have an easier time clouding her mind and so Loki pressed on.

But _nothing _had prepared him for _this_.

Because this was not the serene picture he had expected to find. These were fantasies now running at a rampant pace, images amplified, distorted, and unstable, and all because of his presence there.

The mortal was dancing again but this time it was _different_ because now she was in a state of undress. Her hair wild and disheveled her eyes shyly smiling up at him as she caressed her supple arms and breasts. She was teasing him, displaying herself, and Loki, ensnared by the woman's lucid dream, could not bring himself to look away, especially when Darcy had begun to focus her attentions on _him_. Her hands now running up and down the length of his arms, her breasts softly rubbing up against his bared chest, her fingers spread out across his neck. She did all this to lure him closer to her pliant mouth, one that left a string of kisses along the sides of his cheeks and chin to finally rest at his lips.

She did all this …as if they were lovers and in this dream he was gratefully lapping it all up, eagerly responding towards her in kind. For though his actions were not his _own_ it did little to quell his desire.

Loki swiftly fondled and bent Darcy's body to his. Forcefully nipping and sucking on the breasts she freely offered him as he pressed her harder against him. Kneading his fingers into her soft flesh he left marks all along the sides of her back. Kissing her in mostly the same spots she had been kissing him, only with a _lot _more vigor, especially when it came to her most tender parts. Unable to control the demands of his body any longer Loki had forced Darcy's legs open to take what she willingly gave. His hard length now rubbed up against her opening to playfully tease her, causing the girl to move in a frenzied fashion as her voice sweetly mewled out his name. And as Loki thrust deeper inside of Darcy to claim his own climax he watched as she stared back at him, her eyes glazed until sudden recognition of who he was spread across her face. The sudden realization of what she had _done_ filling her eyes up with horror. It was enough to force the God out of her body and back into the bedroom.

Shocked but mostly angered by his actions Loki moved as far away from Darcy as he possibly could, her heavy breathing now the only indicator that she was still in the same room with him.

His inability to control his circumstances had gone beyond the realm of ludicrous now. He, who had lived for thousands of years on Asgard was now distraught over a human woman's fantasy, and the memory of it was_ still_ fresh in his mind. She had been _begging_ him to enter her. No woman he had ever been with on Asgard had ever begged _him_. They were usually put off by the fact that he wasn't Thor.

The teasing, the playfulness, the light touching, all of it had caused Loki to forget for a moment that it was an illusion and feel something that he had not felt in centuries…

_Wanted_.

Infuriated with himself Loki's temper spiraled, another annoying side effect from being with the mortal, his instability causing him to go into fits.

Beside him lay a poorly polished mirror, one that the God glared into knowing full well that nothing would be glaring back. A solemn reminder that he was now nothing more than disembodied consciousness; a parasitic phantom without the power to be heard, let alone seen. In a fit of rage Loki took out his frustration on the glass surface knowing full well that nothing would happen. But something _did_ happen. His channeled fury had actually been enough to _break_ the glass in the mirror and the sensation of it was _thoroughly_ satisfying.

Loki smirked_.Things might actually end up working out in my favor after all. _

Scrambling out her bed Darcy flicked on the light switch to gape in mortification at what Loki had just accomplished; her male companion now clambering up the stairs to be by her side. But Loki paid the S.H.I.E.L.D agent no heed far too excited by what had just transpired. For only a fool would be too mindless to seize this opportunity. There was still time for him yet and he refused to remain trapped here, stuck within this twilight. He could still change his fate, he could still prove his worth. Prove that he was just as worthy as Thor, that he was just as worthy as any of them up there on Asgard.

With the bedroom window shut the agent had muttered a few words of comfort and finally left the girl alone in her panicked state.

"I ain't _afraid_ of no _ghosts_," Darcy muttered as she glared off into the God's direction. The mortal's bravado causing a chuckle to slip out of Loki's lips as he graced her with a menacing grin.

_Oh, believe me dear girl when I get out of this you'll have more to fear from me than mere apparitions. _

And that was a _promise_.

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**Author Rambles:**

**And so begins the Trickster God's dark fascination with the young mortal Darcy Lewis... **

**Phantom!Loki has just learned a valuable lesson it seems… ghosts may prey upon peoples' fears but they also fall victim to their desires! Eee hee hee. Hopefully this didn't turn out too angsty or God forbid boring for any of you.**

**Comments feed my writing insanity... so don't forget to leave some in the tiny box below.**

**Extra Ramblings: **

**I never really mentioned before what inspired me to write this juggernaut or why I like Thor in the first place but I've always loved mythology, Norse included, so that one is a no brainer. But I'd have to say the Greek myth of Hades and Persephone. Not to mention the fact that I'm a horror fanatic so you'd have to add that into the mix as well!**


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